


Lost and Found

by AlViWalker



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Just Roll With It, Mental Health Issues, Soulmates, also smut, because how could i not, fast burn, liberal use of timelines, mentions of suicide and self-harm, most definitely ooc behavior just because i can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:36:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlViWalker/pseuds/AlViWalker
Summary: They were both lost when they met each other. Him in his grief over losing the love of his life and the mother of his child and her in her in the constant churning of her mind. She always saw too much and he never expected to be truly seen. But times are dangerous for everyone, not all is as it seems and neither of them might be able to hold on. Lost and found or perhaps found and lost?
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

There was a knock on the door of Thomas Shelby's office at home and finishing the word he had been writing, he called out for whoever it was to enter. Silently, the door swung open, light footsteps that seemed to deliberately make as little sound as possible moved closer to his desk and the leader of the Peaky Blinders lifted his head, forcing a small smile onto his face.  
  
"I apologize for disturbing you Mr Shelby, but I have a request of you if you please," the middle-aged woman who had been working for him for years announced demurely, clearly not comfortable with her request and Thomas leaned back in his chair, raising one brow in interest.  
  
"By all means, go right ahead Frances. This seems to be of a personal matter hm?" He cleared his throat, reaching for his cigarettes and his housekeeper shifted, folding her hands in front of her.  
  
"Yes. You see, my niece gave me a call today. She lives up in Leeds and there was a fire in her building, the whole thing burned to the ground and..." Thomas didn't let her finish her hasty explanation, holding up one hand which made Frances stop instantly.  
  
"Now she needs a place to stay. I assume that niece of yours has nowhere else to go?" The woman stood before his desk deflated a little, nodding. It was almost amusing to him how making this request made her squirm like this.  
  
"Yes. It would only be temporary of course and she could help in the kitchens as repayment. She has no one else Mr Shelby, and would end up on the streets otherwise," Frances hurried to add and he huffed out a chuckle, not needing much convincing on the matter.  
  
"How long have you been working for me Frances? Five years is it?" the woman nodded and he nodded back thoughtfully, "in those five years, you have more than proven your loyalty to me and I reward those who are loyal. You can tell your niece, she is welcome to stay for as long as she needs. Let me know when she will arrive and I will send someone to pick her up and bring her here. Now if that was all, I have work to do."  
  
He returned his attention back to the papers in front of him as he dismissively waved his hand, sprinkling ash over his desk, but when there was no reply or retreating footsteps, he glanced up again, raising his brow in silent question. Frances was visibly fighting with herself and Thomas got a little impatient, about to order her to spit it out, when she did so on her own.  
  
"I feel it is my obligation to mention that my niece, Evangeline, is a very pretty thing. Mrs Shelby might not approve of her being here," the housekeeper admitted, looking even more uncomfortable at having to say this and Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lizzie approved of little he did these days, this would not make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. Might give her something other to be upset about than his emotional distance.  
  
"You can let that be my worry Frances. I'll handle Mrs Shelby if it comes to that," he responded dismissively and Frances appeared unconvinced, but since she had gotten what she wanted, she didn't argue the point, inclining her head in thanks.  
  
"Thank you Mr Shelby. Her train arrives at noon tomorrow. I'll leave you to it then." With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, quietly closing the door behind her and Thomas huffed out another chuckle, bemusedly shaking his head. Of course she had already known he would say yes and he felt a bit curious about this niece he had never heard of before.

* * *

I had taken an earlier train, for no real reason other than my own restlessness. Now I was wandering through the unfamiliar streets of Birmingham in the early morning hours, observing people rushing to work, the air thick and hard to breathe on account of the factories that burned through copious amounts of coal to power their furnaces that spit out heavy smoke through their large chimneys. The people living here must have all kinds of lung problems I mused to myself, hearing more than one cough or clear their throats repeatedly.  
  
I wandered around for a few hours, to get a feel of the land, also meeting some interesting people along the way, before I returned to the train station since my aunt had told me someone would come and pick me up. That someone turned out to be a young man named Finn Shelby, youngest brother of my aunts employer and clearly a little over excited. He was talking non stop the entire way to Warwick, telling me all about how his family basically owned Birmingham and that he could show me around if I wanted to, though I didn't bother telling him that I had already done so on my own. I think he was flirting with me, but he was a little young for my tastes, in his early twenties if I had to guess and although I wasn't that much older, I preferred my men with a bit more age to their name.  
  
It was a relief when we finally reached the impressive old mansion aunt Frances was working in and the woman in question was already waiting for me in the driveway. Getting out of the car, I smiled brightly as I walked over to her, genuinely happy to see her again.  
  
"Hello Aunt Frances," I greeted her warmly, going in for a hug when she opened her arms with an equally as warm smile. It felt good to be held and I melted into the embrace, closing my eyes as I inhaled her familiar scent.  
  
"You came earlier, didn't you? I can smell the ash and smoke on you," my aunt stated knowingly when she pulled away again and I nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders, grinning a bit sheepishly.  
  
"You know how I get when I have nothing to do. Speaking of which, what will be my duties here?" I was more than eager to occupy myself with whatever she had thought of, but before she could answer, we were interrupted by my driver.  
  
"I'm gonna head back now. If you want me to show you around some time, let me know alright?" Finn looked adorably hopeful as he said this but I didn't want to lead him on in any way, smiling softly to lessen the blow of my rejection.  
  
"You're very sweet, but honestly a little young for me. I would be willing to spend time with you as a friend, but nothing more." Finn's face fell for a split second before he reigned himself in and I felt a bit bad for him but in the end it would be easier for both of us to get this out of the way early. From experience I knew things could turn ugly if I waited too long.  
  
"Friends it is then. Have a nice day ladies," he said his goodbyes, tipping his hat at us before he strode off and got back into the car. Aunt Frances let out a sigh as she linked her arm with mine and began leading me towards the house, shooting me a bemused glance.  
  
"Already breaking hearts as usual. It is almost a relief to see that nothing has changed," she joked and I huffed out a laugh because she wasn't wrong. This tended to happen an awful lot and I knew it was because of the way I looked, but there was nothing I could do against that safe for mutilating my face or start wearing a sack over it.  
  
My aunt put me on kitchen duty, knowing how much I enjoyed cooking and one of the other girls working here even lend me a uniform so I would blend in better. It didn't fit all that good but that was to be expected and I didn't mind all that much. According to the gossip, the head of the house and his wife were having a fight of some sort and thus she and her daughter were currently staying at a hotel, which meant only Mr Shelby and his son currently resided in Arrow house. I was a little disheartened at that because it meant less to do, seeing as there were only two people around and I was soon done in the kitchens, so my aunt send me outside, telling me they had horses here. She explained the way to the stables and off I went, eager to get there. I loved all animals, had already fawned over Cyril the large bulldog that belonged to Mr Shelby and I was eager to meet the horses as well.  
  
Once inside the stables, I noticed a boy of about seven or eight, sitting on a hay bale with a halfter in hand, looking incredibly sad. He looked up when he heard me approach and I smiled in greeting, stopping a few steps away from him.  
  
"Hello there. You must be Charlie right? Why so glum young lord?" The boy wrinkled his nose at the title before his face fell again and he stared down at the leather in his hands.  
  
"My horse is dead. Father killed it," he admitted and I hummed understandingly in the back of my throat.  
  
"I see. And you're angry with him because you think it wasn't his decision to make." There was clear surprise on his face when he lifted his head again and I bridges the space between us, sitting down next to him, my hands folded in my lap.  
  
"I don't know your father, but I would assume he killed your horse because it was sick?" I waited for him to haltingly confirm this, nodding thoughtfully.  
  
"Are you truly angry because he killed it or are you angry because your father isn't around all that much?" Again he looked surprised and I gave him a knowing smile, stroking over his head.  
  
"It's okay to be angry with him because of that. But you should remember that he loves you very much, otherwise he wouldn't have cared enough to free your horse," I explained to the boy and he frowned up at me, seemingly confused.  
  
"He freed him?" he voiced that confusion and I nodded gravely.  
  
"But of course. See, when a horse gets so sick that it can no longer run around, their soul begins to hurt. They need to gallop freely because their souls need the space and if they can't do that anymore, it is very cruel to let them live like this. By killing him, your father set the soul of your horse free again, removing the restrictions of his physical body. It was not only a mercy to do so but an obligation, not only to the horse, but to you as well. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" The little boy remained quiet, his features thoughtful as he pondered my words and I waited for him to sort through his thoughts, my eyes wandering around the stable. It was well kept, speaking of the high regard there was for the animals within and I approved of that, glad to see someone was treating them with respect.  
  
"I think I understand. Do you think he is happier now? My horse I mean?" Tears were shimmering in his eyes and I took his small hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze as I smiled reassuringly.  
  
"I not only think that, I know it for a fact. His soul is running free now and that definitely makes him very happy," I assured the child and he smiled back at me, the shadows in his eyes lifting. We talked a little more about the horses that were left and how he was learning the violin but wasn't yet very good at it to which I told him that practice was the key, laughing when he grimaced at that. He was a cute boy, well mannered and spoken for someone his age and by the time he went back inside, there was no more gloominess left in him.  
  
I stayed outside a little while longer, wandering the grounds and enjoying the fresh air before I returned to the house as well, spending the rest of the day in the kitchens, baking loads of scones, biscuits and cookies since I needed something to do. The other girls had already left for the night, but I was still going, covered in flour and powdered sugar as I put away the last of my creations so I could clean the mess I had made.  
  
"That's an awful lot of baked goods," a deep, raspy voice said from somewhere behind me and I jumped a mile in the air, startled out of my thoughts, a small yelp escaping me. Turning around with a hand pressed against my rapidly beating heart, my eyes widened when they fell on what I could only assume was Mr Shelby, my brain stopping completely for a moment. He was handsome, very very handsome, sharp features and incredibly blue eyes that were almost as wide as mine no doubt were though he obviously tried to hide his surprise.  
  
"Evangeline Billings. I'm Frances' niece," I blurted out, caught entirely off guard by his attractiveness and the things I saw and I wished my aunt had given me a warning in that regard, though I doubted it really would've helped.  
  
"I figured as much. Thomas Shelby." the introduction was accompanied by a light smirk that made me blink dazedly and I shook my head to clear the cobwebs in my brain, smiling apologetically.  
  
"I'm sorry, I was just a bit surprised. Usually I'm not that awkward. Well, mostly. And you don't have to thank me for speaking to Charlie, it was my pleasure. He is a good boy, a little lonely maybe but I can see he got that from his father. And I should maybe stop talking now." Audibly snapping my mouth shut, I felt my face heat at having gone off on a tangent like that, revealing much more of what I saw than could be wise and Mr Shelby certainly looked a little perplexed. Me and my big mouth that never knew when to shut the hell up.  
  
"Why would you think I'm lonely?" He didn't sound mad, simply curious but I hesitated regardless. I didn't know him, had no idea how he might react if I told him what I saw because in my experience, people tended to not like it when I did so. Then again he had asked so I decided just to go for it. The worst that could happen was him kicking me out and as unfortunate as that might be, I would survive it.  
  
"I can tell just from looking at you, that you're very close to the edge of ending your own life because the voices in your head keep screaming at you, not letting you sleep. You need to be in constant motion otherwise you lose it completely but you refuse to share your burden with anyone because you believe it is yours alone to bear. You're punishing yourself by staying alone, though you might think it is to protect yourself from more heartbreak and others from you. The drugs you take don't help, making you paranoid instead of helping you to function properly. There is a lot of pain inside you but you won't let it out which is why you dance so close to the edge, hanging on only by the tips of your fingers. I can see all that because looking at you is like looking into a mirror that reflects myself back at me."  
  
Complete and utter silence followed my lengthy monologue and I held my breath, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I was more than a little afraid now because he was looking at me with such a blank expression on his handsome face that I had no idea what he might be thinking. Too late I remembered that despite the expensive suit and grand home, he was a gangster and could easily shoot me where I stood if he felt like it. A prospect I might have welcomed a few years ago but unlike him, I had managed to step away from the proverbial edge and had found my will to live, somewhat at least. It would be poetically ironic if I were to lose my life like this now, comically really.  
  
Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, his footsteps fading quickly as the door swung shut behind him and I deflated, releasing the breath I had been holding in a big whoosh of air. That had been intense and I still had no idea what he was going to do about my observations but at least he hadn't shot me on the spot, so I saw this as a win.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Tommy paced through his office, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a halfway burned cigarette in the other. His mind was in turmoil over his encounter down in the kitchen, an encounter he had not been prepared for in any way. And how could he have been? He had only wanted to thank the girl for talking to Charlie, who had come to him when he had returned from London, apologizing for his behaviour and telling him that he now understood why he had to kill Dangerous. It had caught him by surprise to say the least, even more so when he had learned that it had been Frances' niece that had opened his sons eyes to the necessity of Tommy's actions.  
  
Finn had already told him that the girl was a sight to behold, but he only truly understood once he himself had laid eyes on her. And if that hadn't been worse enough, the things she had said to him... How someone whom he had never met before could see him this clearly had been shocking to say the least. Mainly because everything she had said had been the truth. Hearing it out loud like this had felt like a punch to the gut and his mind had completely blanked as if she had managed to shut him off entirely. Now however, his thoughts were racing, circling around the strange beauty in his kitchen, flour on her face, raven hair and ill fitting uniform, telling him the things he had thought secret as if she could read him as easily as an open book. What had it been she said? Looking at him was like looking into a mirror. Tommy had trouble believing that however.  
  
Her large, sky blue eyes hadn't shown the desolation he always saw in his own, but a deep compassion that was odd directed at a stranger such as him. But her voice... Her voice had been knowing, more than he was comfortable with, the melodious lilt tinged with honest pain that had resonated with his own. He was sure it had only been the opium in his system but he could've sworn there had been an angelic glow around her as if she hadn't been real, merely a figment of his delusional imagination.  
  
"Fuck," he whispered under his breath, coming to a stop in front of the large windows behind his desk and he emptied the glass of whiskey in his hand, noticing how it shook. This was a complication he had no time to deal with, not with everything else that was going on at the moment. Best would be to keep his distance and forget all about the girl, maybe see if he could get her a job somewhere else so she would leave as soon as possible, because he wasn't sure what he would do if he kept running into her.  
  


* * *

I hadn't seen Mr Shelby again since that night in the kitchen four days ago and I was kind of glad about it. In retrospect, I should've just given him some nonsense answer that didn't say anything instead of telling the truth. Mostly for my own peace of mind if I was completely honest with myself because as much as I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about the man. For some reason I couldn't even begin to explain, I felt the need to help him, to pull him away from the edge he was so precariously hanging over and it was driving me insane. What I really needed to do was get away form here, the sooner the better but considering the current economic situation, I highly doubted anyone was hiring at the moment.   
  
I had talked to my aunt about this, me leaving, not my strange encounter with her employer, that I had kept to myself. She had more or less confirmed my worries and thus I was stuck here for the moment, much to my mounting displeasure. Speaking of displeasure, Mrs Shelby had returned on my second day at Arrow house and it was very safe to say she didn't like me, without her having to outright say so. Whenever our paths crossed, she would get this peculiar expression, as if she couldn't decide if she was angry or amused and I had more or less been hiding in the kitchens most of the time. If I had known that coming here would result in all this trouble, I would've just stayed in Leeds and simply lived on the streets.   
  
I had barely slept since the day I arrived, whenever I tried, I dreamed about Thomas Shelby and it was always the same dream. Me running towards the edge of a steep cliff, trying to reach him before he could fall, but I would be too late each time, my fingertips only grazing the back of his shirt before he inevitably plummeted into the black abyss just beyond the cliff. It was horrible and put me even more on edge. I had eaten almost nothing the past few days because my stomach was churning constantly and I was starting to look like death warmed over, dark bags underneath my eyes, standing out even more due to how pasty my skin had gotten.   
  
On the evening of the fourth day, my aunt seemingly had had enough and sat me down, forcing me to tell her what was going on with me because it was obvious to everyone that something was amiss. At first I tried convincing her that everything was fine but she clearly didn't believe me and after a while, I broke down and told her everything, from the encounter with Mr Shelby to this strange urge to help him that wouldn't let me be, to the dreams and my inability to sleep or eat. She agreed with me that it would be best if I moved out again but conceded that it might still be a while and that I simply had to deal with it until then. Not very reassuring but then again, there was little either of us could do at this point. It was what it was as my mother used to say.   
  
In times like these I missed her most, she had been the only one who had been able to help me sort through my head, always able to find a solution to the things that weighed on me. From a very young age, I had seen the world differently than most people, noticing details about those around me others could not. I had known my mother was sick before she herself knew it for example. Sometimes I simply needed to look at someone and would know things about them without them having to tell me and it wasn't always a good thing. Like the time I had known the neighbours children were being abused by their father or how I was able to tell if someone had taken a life before. I didn't want to know these things, would've preferred not to know, but I couldn't turn it off, it was just who I was. Aunt Frances didn't truly understand and I didn't expect her to, most days I barely understood myself after all.   
  
That night, like all the other nights, I hardly slept and left my bed before the sun was even up. It was too early to start preparing breakfast but I was feeling restless despite the bone-deep exhaustion that had settled in my body, so I decided to go outside for a change. It was still dark, but the horizon was already beginning to brighten and wandering past the stables, I let my thoughts flow uninhibited, not really paying attention where I was going. The grounds surrounding the mansion were extensive and I soon found myself in a field, my mind struggling to make sense of what I was seeing. From the distance, it looked like a scarecrow but strangely enough, it was wearing a suit which was not something I had ever seen before and an intense feeling of foreboding rose in my chest. Without meaning to, I walked closer, my feet sinking into the mud with each step, the squelching sound it made hardly reaching my ears.   
  
I had been outside for a while and it was no longer as dark as when I had started, giving me a clear view of the 'scarecrow' as well as an envelope pinned to its chest, a name written on it. Even without that, the suit it wore, paired with the cap on its head told me very clearly that this was meant to represent someone specific and driven by curiosity, I took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper and I frowned as I read the message scrawled onto it.   
  
'Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown'   
  
Somehow I didn't think that it was meant figuratively and all blood seemed to leave my body as I glanced down almost reluctantly, my eyes spotting the first landmine I hadn't noticed before. So much for seeing things others couldn't. If I had payed a little more attention, I wouldn't be in this situation now and it was probably sheer luck that I hadn't been blown to bits already. My hands were shaking as I put the letter back into the envelope and pinned it back onto the dummy of Mr Shelby, but my mind was surprisingly calm. Or maybe it was just empty from shock but either way, only my body seemed to be falling apart.   
  
Like magnets, my eyes were drawn to the mine again and I had the crazy impulse to trigger it, my foot lifting as if on its own before I knew what I was doing. When I realized, I let out a gasp, stumbling back against the crucified rag-doll and I closed my eyes, my hands balled into tight fists at my side as I tried to get myself back under control. This couldn't happen, I wouldn't let it happen, I was stronger than this.   
  
I was shaking all over now, my eyes still closed, but they flew open when I heard the same squelching I had made whilst walking over here and I saw Mr Shelby storming towards me, a shotgun in hand, which immediately made me panic and without thinking, I lurched forward.   
  
"No, stop! There are mines all over the damn place!" I called out to him and he froze in his approach as did I, scolding myself for just setting off like that.   
  
"Why are you out here?" He was still a good distance away, but his voice carried over easily, bringing with it the suspicion I had expected and I looked down at the muddy ground, smiling bitterly. The irony was that he was the reason but I could hardly tell him that. I spotted another mine, right before my feet and I swallowed, realizing that if I hadn't stopped when I had, I would be gone now. The sight of it and the knowledge of how close it had been made the same irrational urge to trigger the the thing return tenfold and I once more lifted my foot, letting it hover over the explosive.   
  
"Don't." It was just one word, barely above a whisper and much closer than his voice had been before, ripping me out of the trance I had apparently been in as I lifted my head, but my foot wouldn't move, refusing to adhere to the commands of my brain.   
  
"Please move your foot away, slowly," Mr Shelby continued, looking actually worried though I assumed it had more to do with the fact he was standing nearly right in front of me.   
  
"I don't think I can. The only way out is down. Down, down we go." I was feeling feverish, blinking rapidly against the dry burning in my eyes and a hysterical giggle slipped past my lips. He appeared even more worried, his breathing heavy as he stared at me and I stared back at him, my head completely empty.   
  
"I haven't slept in almost four days. I dream of you when I try, every damn time. And you always fall, always. How can I pull you back when I'm not fast enough? Maybe I need to fall as well." A part of me knew that I was having some kind of nervous breakdown and likely made little sense to him but it was as if I was a visitor in my own body, seeing and hearing everything but unable to intervene in any way or make myself stop. Looking down again, my foot was still hovering above the landmine and I licked my lips, humming in the back of my throat, not a melody, but a sound of distress I couldn't keep in.   
  
"Or maybe you are the one that needs to be pulled back. Look at me Evangeline." Shaking my head, I refused to do so, the utterance of my name making me twitch and my foot lower just the tiniest bit and I heard him take in a sharp breath as he shifted, his hand appearing in my line of vision.   
  
"I can pull you back if you let me. Just take my hand eh?" Finally looking at him, I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes, disregarding his offered hand.   
  
"Why? You want to die, don't you? This way it would be my fault. It wouldn't mean you have lost, just an unfortunate sequence of circumstances that led to your demise. A gamble that went sideways. It's all just a game and in the end we all lose. Death awaits everyone." Whatever he might've responded was cut off when both of us heard Charlie calling out to us and it was what finally managed to penetrate the dark cloud I was floating in, my eyes widening as I set my foot down on safe ground. Mr Shelby was already off, frantically running towards his son, his gun forgotten on the ground in front of me where he had just stood and I remained where I was, glued to the spot as my heart raced in my chest, watching as Mr Shelby reached his son. Picking him up mid run, he continued running and I could barely make them out anymore, my knees buckling form under me as relief filled me when they safely left the field behind. My hands buried themselves in the mud as I hung my head, breathing heavily as if I had been the one running. That had been close, too close and I should probably get up and out of here but I could barely move, shaking so badly my teeth were chattering.   
  
The landmine was right in front of me, but I no longer wanted to activate it, that overwhelming urge I had felt had turned into dread over what I had almost done and I had been very close. I would've not only taken my life, but Mr Shelby's as well and tears filled my eyes upon the magnitude of my potential actions. This wasn't supposed to happen, I wasn't supposed to lose it like I had. I could blame my lack of sleep for making me react this way, but I knew better and maybe he had been right. Maybe I was the one that needed pulling back from the edge I hadn't even seen before me.   
  
With great difficulty, I got up, covered in mud, which I also smeared on my face as I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. I was swaying on my feet, dizzy as I stumbled forward and picked up the machine gun Mr Shelby had dropped, but it was taken out of my muddied hands by the man himself. I hadn't even heard him approach, but there he was, pushing past me and opening fire on the cross that held the dummy of him. It was incredibly loud and I covered my ears with my hands, grimacing when I smeared more mud on me. When he hit the first mine, I flinched as it exploded in a shower of earth and fire and I decided it was time for me to go. Not back to the house, but away from here. I couldn't stay, that much was clear to me now and so I set off, walking at first, before I began running as fast as my unsteady legs would carry me.

* * *

He was furious. How dare they come to where he lived and put his son in danger? His heart had nearly stopped when he had heard Charlie calling for him, the image of his sons body being ripped to pieces running on repeat through his mind as he had run towards him. For a moment he had forgotten about the girl behind them, but as soon as his boy had been returned to safety, she had popped back into his mind. Not that she had truly left ever since their first meeting, constantly ghosting through his thoughts, despite him keeping his distance from her. He hadn't seen her until this morning when he had looked out of his window and had spotted her standing on the field in front of what had looked to be a scarecrow. Tommy had known instantly what it had meant, who had likely put it there and of course he had been suspicious about her presence as he had taken his machine gun with him and went outside to investigate. The mines had caught him by surprise however, as had the fact that the girl had put herself in danger to warn him of them. What had happened after, would likely stay with him for the rest of his life, the expression on her face as her foot had hovered above the mine, ready to set down and blow them both up, the longing in her eyes, the same one he so often felt, the longing for the end.

And once again the things she had said had pierced right through him, hearing her admit that he was as much on her mind as she was on his, even though she didn't know it, had been feeling unexpectedly good, despite the circumstances of the admission. He had been dreaming about her as well, whenever he managed to actually fall asleep, though his dreams were of a decidedly different nature than hers appeared to be. The thought of her dying, right in front of him no less, had made him panic, even though they were nothing more than strangers to each other. But if he was being honest with himself, that was not the way she felt to him. He couldn't explain it, wasn't sure if he even wanted to, but it was as if he knew her and in a way that might be true. Today, it had been him who had been looking into a mirror when looking at her and for the first time in years, Tommy hadn't wanted to die. The desire to help this strange girl that had come into his life had overruled his desire to end it all and the realization of that had shocked him. This went further than just wanting to fuck her as he did in his dreams, further than just a passing interest in some pretty girl.

All that went through his head as he shot at the mines, the explosions echoing over the field as earth and mud rained down all around him. Part of his anger over this brazen violation of his sanctuary was also how it had nearly cost the girl her life before he even had the chance to decide if he wanted to explore whatever he was feeling further. Though admittedly, seeing her come this close to death had made it very clear to him that he was already too far gone to leave her be. Logically he knew that he didn't have time to start anything with her, but something had started on its own regardless of that and his gut told him that he would regret it if he kept pushing it away. It had taken only one exchange with her to make her live in his head and it eerily reminded him of the first time he had met Grace. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her as well, still was every day. The comparison made him pause and he lowered his gun, the crackling of small fires around him the only sound he could hear. Grace's death had hit him harder than anything else in his life, the loss of who he had considered to be his soulmate ripping him apart in a way he knew he would never recover from. Comparing the girl to his late wife didn't feel wrong however, not like it felt wrong when he did so with Lizzy and he threw his head back to look up at the sky, huffing out a mirthless chuckle.

"You did this, didn't you? Pushed her into my path because you knew. Damn you woman." Shaking his head, he huffed out another laugh, shouldering his gun as he turned around, intent on going back in the house and make a battle plan.

* * *

I had been walking for hours, the mud I was covered in dried and brittle, but I made no move to get it off of me. My feet were hurting like hell and my head was pounding in time with my footsteps, sharp stabs that made the world blur before my eyes. No doubt was I getting sick, there was a persistent scratching in my throat that just wouldn't go away no matter how often I coughed to clear it. Just what I needed at the moment. I could only hope it wouldn't get any worse, seeing as I was homeless now because I had no intention of ever going back to Arrow house, not after what had happened this morning, I just couldn't. Staying on my own was much safer for everyone, me included. For fear of being spotted, I had made a wide berth around the official roads, keeping to the woods as much as I could. If anyone was going to send someone after me, it would be my aunt, once she realized I was gone and I had little desire to be found again. I was lucky that I hadn't grown up in the city but in the countryside and that my father had taught me how to make a fire as well as build traps to catch small animals because otherwise, it would no doubt don't take long until I either died of hypothermia or simply starved. At one point or the other, I would have to stop and rest, but I wanted to bring as much distance between me and the mansion as I could before I did so.

Though it should probably be sooner rather than later because I was more stumbling than walking currently. There was a rushing in my ears that at first I discounted as some kind of creek until I realized that it wasn't, that it was my own blood rushing in my veins that I was hearing. Which was probably why I hadn't heard them, the group of people I stumbled upon quite literally when I made my way out of the woods and lost my footing, tumbling down a small hill only to land at someone's feet. My vision was way too blurry to make out anything more than silhouettes moving above me, my stomach lurching violently as someone heaved me off the ground and I couldn't even warn whoever was holding me before I vomited. Not that there was much coming out since I hadn't eaten anything in quite a while and it was very painful, my stomach cramping around nothing as I spewed white foam. I was shaking, feeling weak as a newborn as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, someone still holding on to my arm and I lifted my head, blinking against the black spots dancing in my vision to see who it was, but the small movement of my head only prompted my ears to ring before the black spots converged, plunging me into darkness.

The first two things I noticed when I regained consciousness was the warmth and the noise. I was buried beneath several blankets and I blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling above me, my brain taking a moment to piece together that I was in a wagon, which was why the ceiling was so low. If I had to guess, I would say I had stumbled across a gypsy camp and I wasn't sure if I should be grateful about that or not. On the one hand, things would've taken a turn for the worst if I had passed out alone in the woods but on the other hand, I had deliberately tried to avoid people and I knew that Mr. Shelby had ties to the gypsies around these parts, my aunt had told me as much, so it would probably be safe to assume that word had gotten out already. I had been wearing my maids uniform when I had gone outside that morning, figuring I would return to the kitchens after my walk and someone had taken off my coat before putting me into bed. Though as I found out when I removed the blankets from around me, my coat wasn't the only thing that had been taken off of me because I was wearing a plain white dress that was obviously a nightgown. I also wasn't covered in mud anymore and I decided that regardless of whether landing here would lead to someone from Arrow house finding me, I was decidedly grateful to those that had took me in. They hadn't needed to wash or re-clothe me, both of which I appreciated immensely.

I was still feeling rather week however, likely because I needed food but at least I had gotten some rest that had not been interrupted by any dreams and I saw that as a win. Swinging my legs over the edge of the cot I was lying on, I had to close my eyes when the world began spinning again and breathing through my mouth, I waited for it to stop before I carefully stood. Thankfully my legs supported my weight and taking a colourful scarf from a chair nearby, I wrapped it around my shoulders as I made my way to the door on unsteady legs, my bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. Opening the door, I shielded my eyes against the bright sunlight with my hand, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the change in brightness.

"Ah, the sleeping beauty has awoken. Gave us quite the scare tumbling out of the woods like ye did," a male voice called out to me, amusement swinging in his words and I looked to my right from where the voice had come from, my eyes landing on a grinning man with dark hair, in his early to late thirties if I had to guess.

"I can only imagine. Covered in mud as I was I'm a bit surprised you didn't shoot me. I must've looked like some kind of evil forest spirit," I joked back before turning serious again, "Thank you for taking me in instead, I really appreciate it."

"Ah, it was no problem. Couldn't have let you just lie there after all. Though I could've gone without being vomited on." He laughed, shooting me a wink and I felt my cheeks heat as I wrinkled my nose, grimacing at the poor guy in the semblance of an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that. I might've overdone it a bit and my body wasn't too happy about it it seems. I'm Evangeline by the way." I came down the steps of the wagon, extending my hand and he shook it firmly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Johnny. And I already know who ye are. We have a mutual friend you see," he introduced himself, eyes twinkling with mischief and I frowned at him, hoping he wasn't talking about who I thought he was talking about, but then I saw him, Thomas Shelby, sitting on a log by a fire and staring into the flames.   
  
Letting go of Johnny's hand, my feet carried me over to the fire, the earthy ground cool beneath my feet and Mr Shelby didn't look up as I took a seat next to him, wrapping the scarf tighter around me, not for the cold but to hold myself together. Neither of us said anything for some time, both of us watching the dancing flames in front of us and he was the first one to break the silence.   
  
"The fire wasn't an accident, was it?" He didn't look at me as he pulled out a golden etui and took out a cigarette, lighting it before handing it over to me and I gingerly took it, noticing that my hands were shaking again. There was no need for him to elaborate, of course I knew what fire he was talking about and I took a drag, blowing the smoke up in the air before I answered his question.   
  
"My mother was the only one who understood what I am, who could help me sort through my mind and the things I see that I don't want to see. Without her, I lost direction and the only way out was to follow her. There is too much going on in my head and I have to constantly keep myself occupied if I don't want to drown in all of it. I saw her while I was in the hospital, sitting next to my bed. She told me that it wasn't time yet, that I had to carry on a while longer. But it's hard and I don't think I'm doing a very good job at it." I glanced at the man next to me and he turned his head, our eyes meeting as he smiled a sad little smile.   
  
"I sometimes see my dead wife. She tells me I should listen to the voices in my head. But their message has changed these last few days. They're not screaming anymore, not like they have before." His eyes bored into mine as if he wanted me to figure out the true meaning of his words on my own without him having to say it out loud and I had to look away, working my jaw as I contemplated my response. To be honest, I was scared out of my mind by what I assumed he had meant. Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling the pull between us that kept tugging at me relentlessly but there were many reasons why neither of us should give in to that pull, least of all the fact that he was already married to someone else.   
  
"My mother used to tell me that her and my father were twin flames. The same soul split into two bodies. I thought it was romantic but of course I didn't truly believe such a thing to be real. But she knew, long before word reached us, that father had been killed in the war. She was never the same after that and then she got sick. I knew before she did and it took years for the cancer to slowly eat away at her, leaving her nothing but a husk of what she was. But she was already gone, the day my father fell, a part of her died as well. Seeing her like this was worse than when she actually died. Her passing felt almost like a relief, for both of us. I think she only kept fighting for so long because of me, because she knew I needed her. You're at war Mr Shelby. Constantly at war which means your risk of getting killed is very high and my flame is already only a mere flicker."  
  
Silence ensued once more between us and I couldn't bring myself to look at him again. What I had said was true, I didn't want to end up like my mother, broken and empty because the man she had loved had died. I wasn't in love with him, not yet at least but I knew it would only be a matter of time if I pursued whatever was going on between us. He had already seen more of me than I had ever shown to anyone, even my mother and it didn't sit entirely right with me that I had done so. We were both broken in our own way and as much as I couldn't help the draw I felt, I doubted that putting two broken people together would somehow fix them. All we would end up doing was cut ourselves up on our sharp edges until there was nothing left anymore.   
  
"Maybe you're right, maybe we will both get burned. But does it really matter?" That made me look up again and I was taken aback by the determination I could see in his blue eyes, numbly staring back at him as he took one of my hands in his, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine.   
  
"Do you think either of your parents would've led a happier life if they had never met? That your mother regretted marrying him despite the heartbreak it caused her? The world is an ugly place Evangeline, we should take every opportunity for happiness we can get, even if it is only for a little while. I might get shot tomorrow, you might get run over by a car next week. No one knows what the future might hold. But I know that I can't ignore this and I honestly don't want to. What I truly want is to feel something again. Something other than darkness. Don't you want that as well?" Desperation swung in his voice as he clung to my hand tightly, almost painfully as if he was afraid I would vanish if he didn't hold on to me and I instinctively held on tighter as well. His words held truth in them, more than I wanted to admit. I knew that my mother would've done everything the same if she had had the chance, she had often told me so during the time I had taken care of her because I had wanted to know. She had always said that the years she had had with my father had been the most happy of her life and that it had been worth every pain that came after. It was strange how he knew just the right things to say to me, as if he knew what I needed to hear and I reached up with my free hand, brushing some hair out of his face as I smiled wistfully.   
  
"My mother would've liked you. And she would've probably told me not to run from this. But there is still the issue that you are a married man and your wife already dislikes me without me having done anything yet to warrant that dislike. I don't want to cause more problems for yourself," I stated softly and he chuckled under his breath, capturing my hand when I tried to move it away from his face, pressing it to his cheek instead.   
  
"Let that be my problem, alright? But it would likely be wise for you to not come back to the mansion, considering. There is another place you could stay, but I need to speak with someone first. Why don't you go eat something and I will come looking for you." His suggestion was accompanied by a kiss to the palm of my hand before he lowered it back to my lap and I bit back a stupid grin, the brief touch of his lips making me tingle all over. It was such an innocent gesture but I could easily read the promise in his gaze and it made my heart beat a little faster.   
  
"I'll do that. Tell Johnny sorry again from me for vomiting on him, yes?" He laughed at that, the sound going right through me and I couldn't help but smile, hoping I would hear it again soon. It might've been projection, but he appeared less haunted to me than before though it could just as well be hopeful thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas looked after the girl as she took off with one of the women, smiling when she looked back at him over her shoulder. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but it felt right, more so than anything else he had done in a long time.   
  
"Don't think I've seen you smiling like that in years," Johnny joked in a careful tone and Tommy grinned as he took a new cigarette from his etui, offering one to his friend as well.   
  
He cleared his throat as he stood up, shaking out his hat before placing it back on his head and then he clapped Johnny on the back, "She is special Johnny my friend. Thank you for looking after her."   
  
"S'no problem, Tommy. If she can make you look more like yourself, she must be really special. Letha saw the burns on the girls back when she changed her out of her dirty clothes earlier, looked pretty bad as far as she told me. Takes someone truly strong to go through that kind of pain I'd imagine." Tommy wasn't surprised, he had of course found out all he could about her and already knew that she had gotten severely burned during the fire in her house, having had to stay at the hospital for nearly two months. He had seen pictures of the burns when they had been fresh and it hadn't been pretty. She had been lucky they it had been mostly her back that had taken the brunt of the heat, according to her medical file there had only been light burns on her arms and the back of her legs, neither of which had scarred.   
  
"Like I said, she's special. I need to phone Polly, keep an eye on her while I'm gone, will you? I'll be back soon," he told Johnny who nodded, assuring him he would.   
  
Getting back on his horse, Tommy rode off, leaving the camp behind him as he galloped away, not towards home but towards the lone phone booth he used for calls he didn't want recorded. On his way, he pondered over the sheer luck that Evangeline had stumbled upon Johnny and his kin. He had looked for her after blowing up the landmines, experiencing another moment of panic when he had been unable to find her and he might've frightened Frances a bit by demanding to know where her niece was. It had taken him some time to realize that the girl had run and despite having to go to work in London, he had taken off on a horse, trying to find her again. His housekeeper had told him that her niece had had trouble sleeping and eating the past days and it had had him worried more than should've been appropriate seeing as she was basically a stranger to him. But at this point, after everything that had happened, he could concede that stranger had never been the right term from the minute she had first spoken to him.   
  
The voices in his head, that had kept telling him that it would be easy to just put a gun to his head and pull the trigger were quieter now, not gone but not as loud anymore. There was also a new voice that was whispering to him that he should take the girl and not let her go again and he intended to listen to that voice. He didn't give a shit anymore about the timing or the complications that would undoubtedly follow his decision, not when just looking at her calmed his mind enough for him to think straight. She was his, of that he was certain and he would fight anyone tooth and nail to keep her if he had to.   
  
Reaching the phone both, he dismounted, stroking over the horses snout as he told it to wait before entering the small red booth and picking up the receiver. Tommy hesitated for a split second and then dialled Polly's number, staring at the small stack of coins sitting on top of the phone as the line rang. He hadn't even thought about flipping one in regards to Evangeline which should've told him that he had subconsciously already decided what to do.   
  
"Polly, it's me. I need a favour," he greeted his aunt when she picked up and there was silence for a moment, his fingers starting to drum a rhythm against his leg as he waited impatiently for Pol to say something.   
  
"You sound different. What happened?" Shaking his head, Tommy chuckled, of course she would be able to tell just by hearing his voice.   
  
"I need you to take someone in. A young woman, Frances' niece from Leeds. I'll bring her around today, you'll understand when you'll see her," he told Pol, not bothering to further explain. If anyone would understand, it would be her, of that he had little doubt and he heard his aunt sigh, followed by clinking, indicating that she was making herself a drink.  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing Thomas. Lizzie is already worried. Apparently you talk in your sleep. I will see you soon." the line went dead and Tommy stared at the receiver, blinking slowly as Pol's words sunk in. That certainly explained why Evangeline thought his wife didn't like her and he felt a little bad for Lizzie. She deserved better than him, he knew she loved him and he knew that she knew he didn't love her, not in the way she wanted him to. But there was little he could do about that and he would cross that bridge once he came to it. For now, he had to ride back to Johnny's camp, take his car and hope that Polly would agree to take the girl in once she had met her.

* * *

I was nervous to meet Tommy's aunt. When he had suggested it to me, or to be more precise told me that was what was going to happen, I had been less than pleased. Despite his assurances, I doubted that she would be too happy to let me stay with her, considering the circumstances that I had more or less agreed to start a relationship with a married man, a man that was her nephew and from how he spoke about her, they were pretty close. I kept those doubts to myself however because I got the feeling that he would've just brushed them off regardless, he seemed very convinced this was the right way to go and who was I to argue with him on that. I didn't know his aunt after all. It helped a little that he kept holding my hand during the drive but when the car came to a stop in front of a row of very nice houses, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.   
  
"It will be fine, I promise," Tommy tried reassuring me once more and I threw him a strained smile, but didn't respond otherwise. I couldn't, my throat had closed up and I released a shuddering breath, nodding to myself as I let go of his hand to open the door, but he held me back by my arm, prompting me to look back at him.   
  
"I just want you to know, that there is no turning back anymore. You are mine Evangeline, for as long as I can keep you. And I will make sure that it will be a very long time." It almost sounded like a threat with how intense he proclaimed this but his utter conviction on the matter did manage to calm me down a little, which said a lot about how messed up I was I guessed.   
  
"One step at a time. Now let's go before I lose my nerve completely," I responded, giving him a more genuine smile and he returned that smile with one of his own, making his eyes twinkle in a way that made my heart beat faster for different reasons than fear.   
  
We both got out of the car and he ushered me towards one of the houses, the front door opening before we had made it there, a pretty older brunette standing in the doorway, her brown eyes looking me up and down as she took a drag from a black cigarillo, stepping aside when we reached her. Tommy had his hand on the small of my back and I felt her eyes there as she took note of that, my skin tingling. The inside of the house was just as nice as the outside but I payed little mind to it, turning around to face the owner as I took a step away from Tommy.   
  
"I'm sorry for putting you in this position. If you want me to, I will leave but I would like to say that neither of us meant for this complication and that as of yet nothing has happened. If you allow me to stay here Mrs Gray, I won't be in your way and help around the house to earn my keep. That is all I wanted to say," I finished, folding my hands in front of me to keep from fiddling with my fingers. Mrs Gray raised one brow in obvious amusement, looking past me at her nephew who stood behind me and I felt myself relax when he put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.   
  
"You were right, I do understand now. It seems Lizzie was right to be worried. Are you going to tell her?" The hand on my shoulder slipped away and I heard him reach into his jacket, no doubt for his cigarettes because the question made him uncomfortable so I turned around, taking the golden etui from him.   
  
"Wanting it all doesn't mean you should have it all. There will be a choice you have to make at some point. She will know I am here, your aunt will tell her as soon as you leave because she knows you won't say a word yourself. Jealousy makes people ugly Tommy. Ugly and dangerous. Don't let it fester." Handing the etui back to him, I looked over at the lady of the house.   
  
"Would you be so kind as to point me towards the kitchen? I hope you enjoy baked goods." I smiled, already knowing she was going to let me stay here and she clicked her tongue, glancing at Tommy before meeting my eyes again.   
  
"I do enjoy scones. Down the hall and to your left. Tell Christina to ready the guest room for you." Nodding, I turned, looking up at Tommy who was staring down at the etui in his hands and I placed my hand over it, making him look at me.   
  
"Talk to her. She might not understand, but she will appreciate the honesty. Secrets will only make it worse." Lifting myself up on my toes, I pressed a kiss to his cheek before I set off down the hall, not waiting for his reply. I had said what I had wanted to say and now it was up to him to decide what to do.

* * *

"Interesting little thing. Smart in any case. I like her," Pol stated drily once Evangeline was out of earshot and Tommy ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked after the girl, twirling the etui with his cigarettes in his hand.   
  
"I knew you would Pol, that's why I brought her here. You can see it right?" He glanced at his aunt, taking out a cigarette and Polly walked past him into the parlour, going straight for the bar where she made both of them a drink as he followed her, taking a seat in an armchair.  
  
"You mean the draw? Yes, I can see that. Like I said, I do understand. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Fate is a funny thing, isn't it?" Turning around, she walked over to him, handing him a drink before taking a seat herself, crossing her legs. He stared down into his glass, swirling the contents as he smiled to himself. It was funny, more than Pol might realize.  
  
"I like that smile. Reminds me of simpler times. If you like I can talk to Lizzie about this, after you have told her of course. Might help to hear it from me as well." In surprise, he looked up at his aunt and Polly smirked back at him, taking a sip from her glass as she raised her brow.  
  
"Don't look so surprised Thomas. I might not look like it anymore, but I am gypsy. I know when I see it and the two of you clearly have a very strong connection. You look at her as if she is salvation and she looks at you as if you're the sun. The timing might not be perfect, but when is it ever? Maybe she will help set your head straight again, God knows you need it, we all do."

* * *

I was elbow deep in dishwater, cleaning the utensils I had used, when Mrs Gray came into the kitchen, eyeing the baking tray that held freshly made scones, still hot from the oven, their sweet smell permeating the air. Keeping my focus on the dishes, I observed her from the corner of my eye as she lifted her hand, presumably to test how hot they still were.  
  
"I just took them out, you might want to wait a few minutes Mrs Gray," I told her without directly looking at her and her hand fell down again.  
  
"Call me Polly. If Thomas has his way, you will be part of the family soon enough. If his wife doesn't kill him first that is." Clicking my tongue, I rinsed off the last piece placing it down before drying my hands.  
  
"She might. Probably will come for me right after. Of course I could always just leave and never come back, but I think that might not be wise, considering Tommy's mental state. Would you like some jam to go with your scones?" I pointed at the pantry behind me to the left and she just looked at me in amused disbelief as she lightly shook her head, as if she wasn't sure what to do with me. It was a look I was used to, though the amusement was a welcome change.  
  
"Christina tells me you refused to take one of the guest rooms but want to stay in the servants quarters instead. Why?" Smiling a half smile, I shrugged my shoulders, walking over to the pantry to get a glass of strawberry jam.  
  
"Guest rooms are for guests not intruders. Because that's what I am and that's how you see me. That you like me doesn't change the facts in that regard." I placed the jam on the counter, a little more firmly than I had meant to and I gritted my teeth again the sudden rush of anger I felt. Not towards her or anyone specific for that matter, just over the situation in general. That morning, I had almost killed myself and here I was now, standing in the kitchen of a woman that wasn't sure if she should make me disappear or let things with her nephew progress.  
  
"Does it still hurt? Your back?" I barked out laugh that held little humour, not even surprised about the question. It figured that Tommy would've told her to garner me some sympathy but I didn't really appreciate that he had done so since it wasn't his story to tell, it was mine.  
  
"It isn't the physical pain that hurts the most, it's the one in here and in here," I pointed first at my head and then at my chest, my lips curling into the semblance of a smile as I continued, my voice steadily rising, "that pain can truly make you mad. But you know all about that, don't you Polly? Is everyone in your family broken? I'm assuming yes, so I guess I'm a good fit after all. We can all cut ourselves on each other's sharp edges, bleed out the pain and the sadness and the guilt. Wouldn't that be grand?" another laugh burst free from my chest, this one sounding rather hysteric and I slapped myself across the face, the pain clearing my head. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. What a nice show I had put on, truly magnificent.  
  
"I'm sorry. This day has been very stressful but that doesn't give me the right to yell at you and I apologize for that," I stated much more calmly before I opened my eyes again but there was no one in the kitchen with me anymore. Polly had left and I couldn't fault her for that, seeing as I had been screaming at her like a crazy person. Which I definitely felt like. I hadn't meant to explode like that but I seemed to be more unstable than I had thought and suddenly I was doubting if I should stay here. The urge to run gripped me hard, just as it had this morning and I eyed the door at the back of the kitchen that led into a backyard from which I could disappear into the streets if I wanted to, my feet already moving.  
  
"Running isn't going to help. Now sit down and have a drink with me, you need it." Whirling around, I blinked first at Polly and then at the bottle of whiskey and the two glasses she had placed on the kitchen table.  
  
"You're not wearing shoes. That's why I didn't hear you," I stated dumbly, rolling my eyes at myself for saying that out loud. Polly didn't respond, taking a seat and pouring us both a generous drink and I shook my head, walking over to her to take a seat as well. She pushed one of the glasses towards me as she raised her own, grinning at me with a twinkle in her brown eyes.  
  
"To madness and broken glass." Chuckling at the toast, I raised my glass at well, clinking it against hers before downing the entire thing. She was right, I did need that. As soon as I had put the glass back down again, Polly filled it once more, settling back into her chair to contemplate me over the rim of her drink as she sipped at it.   
  
"You have gypsy blood as well haven't you?" Polly asked me, cradling her glass to her chest and I smiled wistfully, looking down at the table.   
  
"I do, on my mothers side. My grandmother was born on the road, but she settled down with a farmer she fell in love with when she was about my age. She taught my mother about the old traditions and me as well when I was a little girl. But neither my mother nor I spend time on the road, though I wished I had. I can feel it calling to me from time to time and when it does I take a walk without shoes, just to feel the ground beneath my feet. My mother hated that," I chuckled at the memory, but it was tinged with sadness and melancholy. Those had been good times, back when my grandmother had still been around and we had been living with her at the farm. We had only moved to the city after she had passed away, on my mother's insistence. She hadn't been overly fond of the countryside, though I could never figure out why.  
  
"You can take the gypsy off the road but you can't take the road out of the gypsy. It's in our bloods, no matter if we live in grand houses and decorate ourselves with precious jewels, the blood is still the same," Polly stated solemnly and I huffed out a laugh, raising my glass.  
  
"Cheers to that. My grandmother used to say something similar," I replied before downing my second glass and the brunette across from me followed suit. The alcohol was starting to affect me, helping me to relax and I didn't protest when Polly filled my glass once again. She asked me more questions about my upbringing and in turn, she told me about her life, only snippets but it was enough to show me that I had passed her muster, at least for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning!

Some time around the fourth or fifth glass, we had resettled into the salon where we sat on comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace. It was nice and cosy, the whiskey warming me from the inside and the fire from the outside as I talked and joked with Polly. I couldn't even remember the last time I had had this much fun, but I was also more than a little drunk and when my gracious host put on some music, I was up on my feet and dancing as I sang along to Gertrude Lawrence, with Polly joining in as well.  
  
We no longer used our glasses, but instead drunk straight from the bottle, passing it between us. The atmosphere was uninhibited and light, exactly what I had needed, but our fun was unexpectedly cut short when the music suddenly stopped and at the same time, the bottle of whiskey slipped out of Polly's hand and shattered on the ground. She was looking at something behind me and turning around, it took my drunken mind a few precious moments to register that someone was pointing a gun at me, that someone being Mrs Shelby who looked absolutely furious, tears streaming down her face. It seemed as if Tommy had actually spoken to her and I felt a stab of worry for him, hoping she hadn't shot him before coming here.  
  
"Lizzie, put the gun down," Polly said carefully, taking a step toward the pretty brunette and I held up my hand, feeling strangely calm in the face of impending doom.  
  
"No, let her. She has a right to be angry." I felt the broken glass cut into my feet as I walked towards Mrs Shelby, who had yet to say anything, and I stopped when the muzzle of the gun she was pointing at me was firmly pressed against my chest. Her hand was shaking and she breathed heavily as she stared at me with such vitriol I could almost taste it on my tongue.  
  
"I won't let you take him from me," Mrs Shelby managed to choke out whilst pressing the gun harder into my chest and I smiled sadly at her.  
  
"I'm not taking him from you Mrs Shelby because he isn't yours. Neither is he mine. He belongs to the dead, you know that. It's why he will never love you the way you want him to. You're alive whereas he is not. Isn't that right?" Looking over her shoulder, I met Tommy's eyes that were wide and fearful. He had just stumbled into the room, but Mrs Shelby had been too focused on me to notice it and I could tell that my words had rattled her even more when she cocked the gun, the sound overly loud, foreboding, ringing in my ears.  
  
"Lizzie, don't do this, put the gun down alright?" Tommy pleaded with his wife and her hand began shaking even more. Even if she didn't actually want to shoot me, it may still happen by mistake with those jittery hands of hers but in the end, did it truly matter?  
  
"Don't listen to him Elizabeth, do what you think is right. But before you squeeze that trigger, you should ask yourself why you keep fighting for something that makes you so unhappy. Don't you deserve better than that, better than him, better than a life where you'll never come first?" She didn't respond at first, just stared at me before her lips curled into a small smile that held no humour, only sadness.  
  
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, I don't know. But I know that you're not scared to die, aren't you?" Placing my hand over hers that held the gun, I held her tearful gaze, letting her see the answer in my eyes before I moved her arm so the gun was pointed at my head and from my peripheral I saw Tommy lurch a step forward.  
  
"Stop it, right now, the both of you," he demanded forcefully and I fleetingly glanced at him, before meeting Mrs Shelby's eyes again, which were no longer shimmering with tears but with fear, and I realized that I was scaring her, which made me let go and take a step back.  
  
"I'm sorry, I..." I didn't get further than that, my head snapping to the side as she slapped me and I blinked in surprise, for some reason not having expected that. The sound of another slap made me look back at her and it seemed she had slapped Tommy as well, her spine ramrod straight as she put the gun away, glaring at both of us.  
  
"You're both suicidal maniacs," she directed at both of us before turning to Tommy, sneering derisively, "I should've followed Linda's example and gotten out instead of clinging to this sham of a marriage. You can have your divorce and I expect adequate compensation for having had to put up with your shit. Rot in hell Thomas Shelby."  
  
Shouldering past him, she stormed out of the room and we could all hear the front door slam shut when she had left the building. There was a beat of silence, before Polly's voice broke through, her words a little slurred.  
  
"Well, looks like you've got one less thing to worry about." For some reason, that made me giggle and before I knew it, I was letting myself carelessly drop to the ground, howling with laughter. It wasn't that funny, or at all really, but I couldn't stop regardless, the stress of the days events unloading itself in an almost hysterical fit and the whiskey coursing through my system certainly didn't help to get myself back under control again. Tommy's face appeared above me as I was lying spread eagle on the ground, worry lines marring his features and my laughter cut off abruptly at seeing his concern for me so clearly displayed.  
  
"I'm very drunk," I told him honestly and his lip twitched, his expression softening as he held out his hand to help me up.  
  
"I noticed. Come on, we need to clean up your feet." Taking his hand, I let him pull me up, yelping in surprise when he lifted me into his arms before my feet could even hit the ground and he let out a chuckle that sounded as tired as he looked.

Now that he mentioned it, I could feel the cuts on the soles of my feet and I faintly remembered walking through glass but it was already beginning to blur like it usually did when I drank. Which was why I didn't do it very often.  
  
He put me down in the armchair I had been sitting in earlier, before kneeling down in front of me and taking my left foot into his hand, inspecting the damage. The burning was getting worse, as if acknowledging it made it more real and I winced as he began pulling out some of the larger pieces that had gotten stuck in my flesh.  
  
"Would you have shot her?" My question made him still, he didn't move for several long moments before he lifted his head to meet my eyes and I could read the answer in their icy blue depths. I didn't think his wife had even noticed that he had pulled out his own gun, but I had, gambling not only with my own but also with her life and I saw that he knew that as well, a knowing gleam in his gaze as he silently stared at me.  
  
"Here's some hot water, iodine and bandages," Polly interrupted our staring contest, placing the mentioned items on the ground next to Tommy and I smiled at her, grateful for the diversion.  
  
"Thanks Pol. And sorry for bleeding on your floor." The brunette waved off my apologies, taking a seat on the armrest of my chair and putting an arm around my shoulder, both of us watching Tommy take care of my feet.  
  
"Don't worry about it luv. At least nobody got shot this time," she joked easily and I snorted, earning myself an exasperated look from the man kneeling in front of me who looked less than amused by his aunts comment.  
  
"Don't encourage her Pol. She's reckless enough as is." Polly made a disbelieving sound, prompting Tommy to glance up at her, his brows raising in silent challenge.  
  
"Of course she is. Neither of you seems to have any regard for their personal safety. She doesn't need encouragement to act reckless with her life and neither do you. And on that note, I'm going to go to bed. The guest room is ready, for both of you." The last part was directed at me, accompanied by a pointed look and I nodded imperceptibly, understanding the message she was giving me.  
  
"Good night Polly. And thank you again," I said softly and she patted my shoulder as she stood up, swaying a little as she walked away, stopping in the doorway to glance over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her lips.  
  
"Try to keep the noise to a minimum. I don't need to hear you fucking," she called back to us and I felt my face heat and my eyes widen, a startled laugh escaping me. Shooting me a wink, she was gone and I stared at the spot she had just stood, unable to look at Tommy after that particular comment. I could feel his eyes on me though and I bit down on my bottom lip, suddenly very nervous.  
  
"I know. We don't have to do anything if you're not ready." He had spoken so quietly, I had almost missed it and just like that, the nervousness drained from me, replaced by a warm fluttery feeling in my belly.

Turning me head, I peeked at him through my lashes, working the fabric of my dress between my fingers as to not reach out to him but he wasn't looking at me, focused on wrapping a bandage around my foot, and I watched him in silence as he did the same to the other one. Once he was done, he placed both my feet on his thighs, looking up at me as he ran his hands over the instep of both of them, before they wandered higher and I knew he was waiting for me to tell him to stop, daring me almost, but I stayed mute, my heart-rate increasing with each centimetre upwards until he had reached my knees, pulling them apart. His eyes never left mine as he straightened, moving his body so it was between my spread legs and I lifted my hand to stroke the side of his face, letting my fingertips map the contours of his features.  
  
"You're beautiful Thomas Shelby. It almost hurts me to look at you. There are stories in each line of your face and I want to know all of them, every last one. Will you tell me, will you show me everything that you are and let me have every piece of you? Because that is what I want. To consume you entirely, absorb all your pain and make it mine so you don't have to carry it alone."  
  
I had taken his face in both of my hands, staring deeply into his eyes, searching the truth in them and he answered me by lurching forward, capturing my lips in a frantic kiss as he buried his fingers in my hair, pulling me closer. My mind shut down completely as I kissed him back a little clumsy, but I made up for my inexperience with my fervour, attacking his lips just as urgently as he did mine. No thoughts were left in my head, everything was just him, him kissing me, him lifting me out of the armchair and onto his lap, his hands running all over me, pulling at my clothes to get them off of me. I wasn't idle either, my impatience to feel his skin against mine prompting me to forgo the unbuttoning process as I simply ripped his shirt open, sending the buttons flying, but neither of us cared. My dress came off as well, leaving me only in my underwear and he laid me down on the ground, moving from my lips to my jaw and then my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on my skin that burned everywhere he touched it.

His hands explored my body, stoking the fire already consuming me and I did the same, drunk on the feeling of his naked skin beneath my fingertips as I ran them over his upper body, mapping the scars there. I wanted him with such an intensity that I was convinced I was going to die if he didn't take me and I wrenched his head up by his hair, meeting his glazed eyes. Whatever he saw in my own eyes, it was enough and I didn't need to tell him what I wanted for he reached down to unbuckle his belt, recapturing my lips as he did so. My panties were simply ripped apart and he broke away from my lips to look into my eyes as he positioned himself between my legs, both our breathing laboured.

I nodded almost imperceptibly and he kept eye contact as he slowly pushed inside, his face contorting as if in pain, likely mirroring my own expression. It hurt but not in the way I had expected it to, less like being ripped apart and more like an overwhelming pressure but that changed when he suddenly jerked his hips, muffling my cry of surprised pain with his lips and a few tears escaped my tightly closed eyes as I tried adjusting to the pain.  
  
The burning was intense and I let out a pitiful whimper, but despite the discomfort, I wanted him to move, so I wound my legs around his waist and tightened them, making him break away from my lips so he could look into my eyes again. His face was sweaty and I could tell that it took a lot out of him to not move which made warmth rise in my chest, a smile spreading over my own face as I cupped his cheek.  
  
"Everything," I whispered and he knew what I wanted, his eyes on mine as he began to move, slowly at first, as if to see how much I could take, but I didn't want him to hold back, scratching my nails down his chest so hard he began to bleed.

With a growl that sounded more animal than human, he captured my hands and pinned them on the ground on either side of my head, his hips pumping rapidly as he threw his reservations overboard, taking me hard and fast. It still hurt, but it was a good kind of pain, because he was the one inflicting it, and I was making sounds I had never heard myself make before, too far gone to care about anyone hearing.

There was a pressure in my lower belly that increased more and more with each of his thrust until it exploded in a burst of light and heat as I felt him lose his rhythm and spill inside me, my entire being unravelling as euphoria raced through my veins and I faintly heard myself chant his name as if I was praying to him, as if he had become my God. And in a sense that might've been true.

An overwhelming sense of rightness, of coming home, suffused me and I hadn't known I was crying, not until something wet dropped unto my face and opening eyes I hadn't known I had closed, I looked up at Tommy. He was crying as well, silent tears that rolled down his sweaty face, dropping down to mix with my own and I pulled him down on me, cradling his head against my chest as I stroked through his dishevelled hair in an effort to comfort him. 

* * *

  
Tommy didn't think he had ever cried during sex before, but he had also never experienced anything quite like this. He had wanted to be careful, to make her first time pleasant, but that had obviously not been what she had wanted and he had been all too glad to rut into her like a rabid animal, completely giving himself over to his baser urges. She had looked even more beautiful, writhing beneath him, lost in the throes of pleasure and he had seen everything in her sky-blue eyes because she had let him see everything that she was, giving it all to him like she wanted him to do as well. And he felt himself actually wanting to do so, to spill out every dark thing in his mind and cover her in his blackness because he knew, he knew that she would still look at him the same afterwards.

That was why he was crying, overwhelmed by the feeling of coming home he had experienced from the moment he had sunk himself inside of her. He couldn't explain it, it barred any logic, but it was still the truth of how he felt. She was his now, just as he was hers, and there was no regret in his heart, none at all. His tears were tears of relief, relief that he had found something that made him feel complete again, at least more so than before. He wouldn't yet call it love, it was too soon for that, but he was convinced it would only be a matter of time.  
  
He lifted his head when he noticed that her hand in his hair had stilled and he saw that she had fallen asleep beneath him, her face relaxed and smoothed from the tight lines it usually wore, making her look younger, peaceful. As carefully as he could, he moved off of her, his eyes falling between her legs, taking note of the pink smeared over her thighs and he felt a surge of male pride at being her first. No matter what was going to happen from here on out, he would always hold that position in her mind, always be the one that made her a woman in that regard.

He used her destroyed panties to clean her and himself as best he could, before throwing the fabric into the fire behind them. After pulling his pants back up, he scooped her off the ground and carried her upstairs to the guest room he usually used when staying here, placing her on the bed, amused that she hadn't woken up from being jostled around. Tommy hesitated only a moment before he undressed himself and slipped into bed beside her, manoeuvring her warm, limp body until she was comfortably lying in his arms before he buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent that reminded him of the sun and open sky. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep and for the first time in a long time, no dreams were plaguing him during the night.  
  


* * *

When he woke the next morning, he felt more rested than he had in months, maybe even years, and he looked down at the woman still soundly asleep in his arms who was the reason he had been able to actually sleep for once. But, as reluctant as he was to leave, he unfortunately had to, the world was still turning and he had responsibilities he needed to take care of. Extracting himself from the bed without waking her, he got dressed again, chuckling under his breath when he couldn't button his shirt, seeing as Evangeline had ripped the buttons off last night. Thankfully he had a stash of extra clothes here and after he looked presentable again, he made his way downstairs, unsurprised to meet Polly in the parlour despite the early morning hour.  
  
“You look better this morning,” she greeted him, sipping on a cup he assumed held coffee by the smell of it and he cleared his throat as he reached for his cigarettes, unable to keep the smile off his face.  
  
“I feel better too. Slept through the night if you can believe it. I can't even remember the last time that happened,” he replied after having lit his smoke and Pol hummed non-committally, eyeing him over her mug as he walked over to the fireplace, the events of last night playing through his mind.  
  
“You do, you just don't want to say it. She's still asleep I assume?” Thinly veiled amusement swung in Pol's voice and he glanced at her, smirking.  
  
“Yup. Make sure she eats today, eh? Can't have her passing out again,” he responded and Polly rolled her eyes, placing her mug on a nearby table as she stood.  
  
“I'm not her sitter Thomas. If she wants to eat, she will eat,” his aunt stated pointedly before giving him a sly smile, “When are you going to introduce her to everyone else? I'm sure Lizzie has already told Ada.”

To be honest he hadn't thought about that yet, but Pol was right of course. Ada no doubt already knew and he wanted her to meet Evangeline, though he wasn't too sure about his brothers. If it would be up to him, he would keep her as far away from them as he could, keep her away from Peaky business in general, but he knew that wouldn't be possible and her way of seeing things could potential be very useful to him.  
  
“Michael will arrive today, I need you to meet him at the train station, see what's going on with him. You can take Eva with you, introduce her to Arthur, I already told him about her.” He cleared his throat again, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the fireplace, no longer smiling as he reverted back to business mode and Polly pursed her lips, clearly wanting to say something.

“Just say it Pol. Whatever it is you want to say, out with it.” His aunts features hardened as she stared back at him and Tommy impatiently raised his brows, wanting her to get on with it.

“You're putting a lot of trust into someone you have just met, connection or no connection. Do you think that's wise?” Running his tongue over his front teeth, he stared back at her, knowing full well what she really meant. This wasn't about Eva, it was about Michael, but he wasn't going to be swayed in his decision to keep a close eye on his cousin, not after the call he had received from Ireland. It might be nothing, but it might as well be true, and he couldn't take that risk if he wanted to stay on top.

“Unlike Michael she hasn't given me any reason to doubt her intentions yet. I know you don't want to hear this and I understand, but until we have confirmed his story, he will remain on probation. Not to forget that he lost the company a lot of money by not doing as he was fucking told,” he said a little more forcefully than he had meant to and though Pol kept her face straight, he knew he had angered her. An angry Polly wasn't good, but he didn't have time to smooth things over and in the end, what he had said still stood regardless.

“I'll leave it to you if you want to take her with you, how's that? I have to go for now. I'll see you later, eh?” Polly didn't respond, but followed after him as he made out towards the door and put his coat and hat on, his hand already on the door before she deigned to say something.

“I'll bring her along. She might be useful. Don't make me regret this.” Not turning around, so she wouldn't see his pleased grin, he opened the door and stepped outside. There was no need for him to respond but he hoped that he wouldn't regret this either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super stoked about the positive responses I got for this story thus far! Massive thanks to everyone who left kudos or a comment, it's what keeps my motivation going and my hungry attention monster sated. Just FIY, this is the second to last chapter I've had pre-written, so updates might slow down a little after that. In all honesty, I haven't got a clue where this is going, though I will be using Season 5 as an outline, just not sure about the ending yet. 
> 
> Suggestions are always welcome and thank you once more for showing your appreciation. I wish everyone a fantastic day!


	5. Chapter 5

I had been a little surprised when Polly had told me we were going to meet her son at the train station and that she wanted me to use my 'special talent' to determine if he was lying or not. Apparently he had caused quite the trouble by losing a big chunk of the company's assets in the market crash and there were also rumours that he was trying to usurp Tommy for his throne as head of the family.

It felt strange to be told all this, seeing as I wasn't part of the family, or part of their business, and I told Polly as much to which she simply shrugged her shoulders. Tommy's orders she said to me and I wondered what in the world he was thinking.

Of course I had no interest in selling any of them out or betray them or whatever, but he didn't know that, couldn't truly, and it made me feel very mixed. On the one hand I was flattered, but on the other hand, I was worried as well, because this was new territory for me and I wasn't sure how I would fare in this kind of world he apparently wanted me to be part of.

Polly had introduced me to Arthur before we had set off to meet Michael, and the oldest Shelby brother had welcomed me into the family as if I hadn't just met all of them, which had made me feel rather awkward. Tommy had been talking to him about me and only then had it slowly begun to sunk in that I was in a relationship now, though the slight soreness between my legs should've been clue enough for that, a constant reminder of the night before, albeit a pleasant one.

Meeting Michael was much less pleasant, not only because he had brought along a wife no one had known about, but also because he was furious that he had lost his families trust and I could tell that there would be more trouble to come from his side. Mostly because of his wife, whom I didn't like one bit, seeing her for what she was, a conniving manipulative girl that had her claws deep in Polly's son, making him dance to her tune. I told Polly all of this, but also told her that Michael was telling the truth about not having betrayed anyone, though there was definitely something he wasn't telling, and she agreed with me, having gotten the same thing off of him.

After that rather unpleasant family reunion, we drove back to Polly's house, where she immediately poured herself a drink and I stood in the doorway of the parlour, unsure if I should leave, give her some time alone. I felt like I was intruding but just as I was about to make myself scarce, she began to speak.

“There will be a family meeting later, just Tommy, Arthur, Michael and me, though I think my son will bring that new wife of his along. I want you to come as well, to keep Tommy from doing anything stupid.” Turning around, Polly looked at me and I could see the worry in her eyes, though she tried to hide it. She was scared that Tommy wouldn't believe Michael and kill him for possibly betraying the family and I trusted her judgement on that. I hadn't seen the man angry yet, but I could imagine that he was if he truly believed Michael was trying to pull one over on him.

“Of course. But I don't think it's Michael he should be worried about. That wife of his though, you should look out for her. She's an opportunist if I ever saw one and not someone who is terribly concerned with loyalty. I wouldn't be surprised if she got pregnant on purpose,” I responded and Polly scoffed, downing the contents of her glass before pouring herself another. She was drinking too much, but I wasn't going to say anything about it, it wasn't my place.

“You and me both luv. That one's trouble, trouble we don't need on top of everything else,” Polly stated bitterly and a wave of guilt hit me, because I was likely included in that everything else as well. I didn't even know half of the things that were going on, but I wasn't sure if I did want to know, maybe staying oblivious would be better.

“I don't mean you. If anything, you're going to be of help to keep Tommy sane, keep him grounded in reality. None of us have been able to do that so far, but I think you will,” she amended after noting my crestfallen expression and I averted my eyes, uncomfortable with the expectations she put on me, seeing as I was just as troubled as Tommy. Time would tell if I really would be of any help.

* * *

The second meeting of Michael Gray and his wife was even more uncomfortable than the first and I kept myself in the background, once more feeling like an intruder to what was so obviously not meant to be witnessed by an outsider such as myself. I still kept an eye on Gina, Michael's wife, my gut telling me that there was something decidedly wrong about her being here, more so than it was for me. It took me a while to figure out what it was, but when it suddenly clicked, I spoke without thinking, my eyes focused on the blonde as I proclaimed my conclusion.

“It's not his, is it? The baby? It's not Michaels.” There was a break in her facade then, just a flicker of fear as she glanced at her husband before her mask was firmly back in place but everyone had seen it, including Michael who frowned at his wife, suspicion displayed on his features.

“It that true Gina?” His voice was hard, as were his eyes as he gave the blonde a probing look and despite her pleasant smile, she visibly paled, not able to hide her reaction, or her fear.

“Of course not, why would you even think that? The baby's yours, no one else's,” Gina tried assuring him, but the doubt was sown and she could tell, though she tried to keep composure, placing a gloved hand on her husbands arm, giving him a shaky smile.

“Michael? Don't believe her, she's just a stranger isn't she? You told me so yourself.” Her voice had turned pleading, having lost its cocky confidence and Michael looked over at me, a silent question in his eyes. Taking a step forward, I calmly returned his gaze, knowing that I was right about this.

“She is the one lying to you. Just like she is the one putting ideas in your head about taking the crown for yourself. There is no love, all she wants is power and money, that's all she sees in you. I wouldn't be surprised if she had already been pregnant when she met you. How long have you been together, one month, two?” Before he could reply, his wife shot up, fury in her eyes as she pointed at me, screeching loud enough to wake the dead as she accused me of lying, getting all up in my face and I let her, not about to hit a pregnant woman even though I very much wanted to. I felt oddly protective of the members of the Shelby clan I found.

“Enough!” Tommy bellowed and Gina startled enough to finally shut up, her doe eyes flitting over to the leader of the Peaky Blinders who was glaring coldly at her, pointing a gun at her chest which made the blonde blanch.

“I would advise you to carefully think about your answer and not lie to me because I have no qualms about shooting you, pregnant or not. I might not kill you, but I will hurt you. Is the child you're carrying Michael's?” Tommy's voice was deceptively calm as he asked this and the blonde glanced over at Michael, her eyes snapping back to Tommy when he snapped his fingers.

“Don't look at him. Answer the bloody question,” he told her, his voice rising and when Gina remained quiet, clearly struggling with herself, Tommy raised a brow as he cocked the gun, a silent challenge in his eyes. Hesitating only for a split second longer, the blonde American visibly deflated, her voice quivering as she answered, tears spilling down her cheeks, though I was pretty sure they weren't real.

“No, it isn't,” she admitted, turning to her husband who looked about ready to kill her himself, his expression murderous, “but that doesn't mean I don't love you, because I do, I really do, you have to believe me!” Polly scoffed at that, earning herself a glare from the blonde which left the matriarch of the Shelby clan entirely unimpressed.

“Do you? Because I have a hard time believing that after you lied to me about this. Makes me wonder what else you might've lied about,” Michael interrupted the staring contest between his wife and his mother, his voice so cold that it send a shiver down my spine even though his icy demeanour wasn't directed at me.

The man was furious about the betrayal from the woman he thought was in love with him, pregnant with his child and Gina seemed to realize that there was no saving the situation, no talking herself out of it. Just like that, she dropped the facade of distraught victim, huffing out a breath as she rolled her eyes, giving each of us a disdainful look before she turned away and walked over to the exit, disappearing through the door without another word or any of us stopping her. Though I had a bad feeling that this wouldn't been the last we had seen of her.

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But in all honesty, that woman was horrible and would've likely gotten you killed,” I addressed Michael and he forced out a chuckle, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head, visibly shaken up by this turn of events. He had gone from being a husband and soon to be father to being neither and I could only imagine how hard that must be on him because I could tell that his feelings for the blonde had been more real than hers for him.

“I'm not going to question your judgement again,” Polly unexpectedly stated, but it was directed at Tommy who smirked at her, putting his gun back into the holster beneath his jacket.

“Good. Then you wont argue with me when I put Michael on probation for the time being wont you?” His eyes flitted over to the man in question and contrary to how Polly's son had reacted back at the train-station, there was no animosity in him now, only reluctant acceptance as he nodded, looking entirely defeated.

“I pains me to admit this, but seeing as what happened with Gina I'm not really sure if I even should stay in the business. Maybe I'm not as cut out for it as I thought myself to be.” Bitterness coloured his words and he stared down at his hands with a deep frown.

“Nonsense. You're a man, it happens from time to time that you get distracted by your cock. Just be a bit more careful who you let in from now on and everything should be fine,” I interjected offhandedly, having walked behind the bar to pour the poor lad a drink and I looked up as I was greeted by silence, meeting Tommy's amused stare.

“What? You know I'm right. Love can make people stupid, make them blind to what is going on around them. It happens. The important bit is to learn from your mistakes and not repeat them.” Carrying the glass of whiskey I had poured over to Michael, I handed it to him with a sympathetic smile and he took it with a grateful nod, looking past me at Tommy.

“I have no idea where you found her, but you should definitely keep her around,” he stated with a weak twitch of his lips that probably counted as a smile, before he downed his drink and I glanced over my shoulder at Thomas who was staring at me with an unreadable expression on his sculpted face.

“I intend to. For as long as possible.”

* * *

I didn't return to Polly's after the meeting was done, instead Tommy took me back with him to Arrow house, leaving me with my aunt as he retreated to his office and of course I had to endure a dreadfully lengthy scolding about running away and leaving her worried sick. Then I received a hug that nearly crushed my ribs and everything was well again.

Despite her protests, I insisted on taking up my spot in the kitchen again, helping with dinner for the head of the house and his son, receiving a few strange looks from the other kitchen staff which I patently ignored of course. I wasn't too sure about my position in this house, pondering about this as I peeled potatoes, but I didn't have to ponder long before Tommy suddenly appeared, his arrival announced by the dying down of the chatter that had been going on before, which made me look up from my task, my eyes meeting his across the room.

“What are you doing?” He seemed amused, if a bit confused and I glanced down at the potatoes and than back at him, furrowing my brows.

“I believe I'm peeling potatoes for dinner. I thought that was quite obvious,” I replied and he was unable to hide his smirk, raising both his brows as he leaned against the door frame.

“I can see that. The question is why are you peeling potatoes for dinner.” Opening my mouth I was about to answer him when I remembered that we weren't alone, my eyes wandering over to the other occupants of the room, who pretended not to listen to every word we were saying, before I decided that I shouldn't really care.

“Well, for one they needed peeling and secondly, I wasn't sure what I was expected to do. I do technically still work for you, don't I?” His smirk widened and I found myself smiling back at him, unable to help myself. The situation was absurd which made it increasingly funny the longer I thought about it.

“See, I'm pretty sure that running away meant you quit and I don't remember hiring you back. Aside from that, I can't have my future wife working as my maid, now can I?” My heart stopped, as did every single movement inside the kitchen. This had escalated rather quickly and I wasn't too sure he was actually joking, though I hoped he was. It was much too soon to talk about marriage, even if our relationship was progressing rather quickly.

“I do very much hope you're joking Thomas. Because if not, that was a truly terrible proposal.” I couldn't entirely keep the shaking out of my voice and if anything, his smirk grew impossibly large, which I took to mean he had, indeed, been joking. Bastard. Nearly gave me a heart attack with that one.

“Eh, I don't think it was that bad.” He winked at me and I let out huff, flipping him off. I did put down the potatoes though and skilfully ignored the looks I received as I left the kitchen.

There was going to be talk as soon as I was out of earshot, of that I was certain. Who knew what they had already heard about me and their employer. I could probably ask my aunt but in all honesty, I didn't want to know. Homewrecker, harlot, gold digger. I could hear them in my head, throwing around insults without knowing anything about me or my relationship with Tommy.

“Care to join me for a drink?” The man in question broke the silence and me out of my thoughts and I shot him a grateful smile, glad for the distraction he offered me before I could get lost in my head again.

“Sure, why not. No whiskey though, I'm still recovering from my escapades last night,” I responded with a smile, blushing when I remembered what else had happened aside from me getting drunk with Polly. He seemed to remember as well if the sudden heat in his eyes was any indication and I felt certain body parts heat in answer. Leaning in closer, his breath ghosted across my neck, his smell of cigarette smoke, liquor he had already drunk and distinct male invading my senses.

“I wouldn't mind a repeat of certain aspects of last night.” The whispered admission made a shiver run down my spine and I bit down on my bottom lip to stop myself from doing something as embarrassing as whimper. Damn him and the strong effect he had on me.

Clearly catching on to my reaction, perceptive bastard that he was, he chuckled under his breath as he straightened again, his hand landing on the small of my back as he led me towards his study. A mix of nervous excitement and apprehension coursed through me, making it impossible to respond to his teasing. On the one hand, I wouldn't mind a repeat either, despite the still lingering soreness in my core, but on the other hand, a part of me was reluctant to indulge in him. Considering that we barely knew each other, we were moving incredibly fast, the connection we had surprisingly strong between two people who had just met. It was frightening in a way, the intensity of it all and how neither of us seemed to be able to deny this pull that had been there from the very first moment we had met.

As exhilarating as it was to have caught the attention of such a man as Thomas Shelby, it also worried me greatly. He seemed so determined to go through with whatever this was between us, even telling his wife he wanted a divorce, but that wasn't normal, was it? We were basically strangers and still, I had never felt as close to anyone, like I could be completely myself without getting judged, like I was understood on a level not even my mother had been able to achieve, despite her best efforts.

“You're thinking too much.” A glass appeared in my line of vision and I blinked up at Tommy, too lost in my own thoughts to have realized we had made it into his office.

With a small smile, I took the glass, cradling it against my chest as I looked around the room I hadn't set foot in before. It suited him, tall bookshelves lined three walls of the rather large space, interrupted on one side by a fireplace with a comfortable looking seating arrangement sitting before it which we stood next to and large windows directly behind his desk, the curtains currently drawn close. A fire was crackling, spreading warmth across the dimly lit room and despite it's large size, it was cosy, intimate almost. The smell of paper and ink, burning wood and the man himself permeated the air, sinking into my lungs, suffusing me with the essence of this room and the man within.

“Don't you think it's strange?” I asked quietly, glancing at him out of the corner of my eyes and when he simply raised a brow at my question, I elaborated, still not looking at him directly. “Us I mean. How close we already are, despite not knowing each other well. How you seem to implicitly trust me when I can tell that you're not someone who does so easily. Does that not appear strange to you?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn't trust you?” There was a distinct note of teasing in his voice and I couldn't help but roll my eyes, turning to face him. I wanted him to take this serious, to think about this rationally. This wasn't normal, surely he could see that as well?

“That's not what I'm saying, Tom. I would never betray your trust on purpose. But that is exactly the point. I don't even know enough about you to discern what you would see as betrayal and what not. We haven't known each other that long, have spoken only a handful of times at best and still you decided to divorce your wife for me. Unconventional doesn't even begin to describe how not normal this all is.” I gave him a weighted look but he just shrugged, wholly unconcerned with my reasonable objections. It was a tad bit infuriating and for some reason that made me chuckle. Seemed as if I had learned something new about Thomas Shelby. He didn't seem to give a fuck about how this looked from the outside.

“I'm not a conventional man Eva, surely you must've realized this by now,” he retorted with a slight twitch of his lips, cupping my face in once of his cool, calloused hands and I closed my eyes for a moment, to keep them from rolling again. Of course I had realized that, but he wasn't finished yet it seemed.

“I am however a man who knows a good investment when he sees one. And you my dear are most definitely worth investing in.” Taking a step back so his hand slid off my face, I raised my brow, having a hard time to hide my amusement at the phrasing he had just used.

“You talk about me as if I were a prized horse you intent to buy. Should I feel offended by that?” The twitch to his lips turned into a smirk, one that promised things, delightfully filthy things he would do to me if I let him. And oh, did I want to let him.

“No. But perhaps you should be scared. Whilst I don't intend to buy you,” he stepped closer, taking the drink I hadn't so much as sipped at out of my hands to place it on a nearby table, before being back to invade my personal space, one hand tangling in my hair to crane my head back, the other possessively gripping my waist, “I do intend to possess you. Every last piece of you until it all belongs to me.”

With that declaration that made my heart nearly jump out of my chest and my knees completely weak, he kissed me with a passion that send my head spinning. Desire ignited a fire in my veins and I clung to his shirt, afraid I might fall over if I didn't hold on to him. The feel of his lips and tongue caressing mine was all consuming, making me forget what we had even been talking about, nothing mattered anymore but him and how he made me feel. Much too soon, he broke away again, resting his forehead against mine, his blue eyes searching my face as we both breathed a bit more heavy than we had before.

“And you will let me have all, wont you?” It wasn't really a question, more a statement of fact but I answered regardless, caught in this moment, caught in him, my voice just a breeze, barely above a whisper, reiterating what I had said last night when I had demanded much the same from him.

“Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know if anyone noticed, but I really don't like Gina. I'm not sure if the writers of the show intended to make her so unlikable, or if it's just me, but since this is my story, I gave her the boot first opportunity I got, he he. Though, as already alluded to, this wont be the last time she makes an appearance... 
> 
> Since this was the last (mostly) pre-written chapter, updates from this point on are going to be pretty irregular, I only write when the muse strikes me and she is a fickle bitch most days. However, I'm probably gonna upload one or two other stories for this fandom I've been working on, so if I do, feel free to check those out as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to write the next chapter, work started again last week and I didn't have much motivation to do much of anything. Wrote this entire chapter today however and decided to post it. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Doubts began to creep in over the following days and no matter how hard I tried to ignore them, they only grew more persistent. After my promise to Tommy the other day, we had made love in front of the fireplace and it had been even more intense than our first time of being intimate with each other. But he had grown distant since then, or more specifically, he wasn't home enough for us to become closer. I understood that he was a busy man, what with being an MP and the recent loss of money due to the market crash, not to mention the incident the night of our last tryst.

A man by the name of Aberama Gold had turned up at the house, a beaten Johnny Dogs in tow and he had threatened Tommy with a gun, faulting him for getting his son killed. Tommy hadn't been too happy with me when I had thrown myself between him and Mr Gold, but it had distracted the other man enough for Tom to be able to disarm him. Why-ever he thought I would listen when he had told me to stay in the house after we had seen a car approach was anybody's guess. He had been quite furious about my defiance and about me putting myself literally in the line of fire and I hadn't seen much of him since.

It was odd to be alone in the house and not work as I had done before, it made me feel like an imposter, leeching off someone else's generosity and I didn't like it. Charlie was at school during the day which left me to my own devices for hours on end, but even when he came home, I tried not to get too close, it didn't feel right to do so, I wasn't his mother and the relationship with Tommy was too fresh to make any assumptions about my role in his life pertaining to his son. I didn't want to be presumptuous in that regard, but just sitting around was driving me mad.

Tommy had urged me to not leave the house, but I was bored out of my mind and also not very good at following orders, so after five days of twiddling my thumbs, I decided to go and pay him a visit at Westminster. As an excuse, I packed a small lunch for the both of us and then had someone drive me out to London, worry and fear gnawing at my stomach, getting worse the closer we got. I had learned the morning after Mr Golds visit, that it had been the birthday of Tommy's daughter and I still felt terrible that he hadn't been able to spend it with her because of me. She was with her mother at the moment, probably had no idea why her father hadn't been with her and the guilt I felt was overwhelming. It added to the doubts already in my mind, that pesky little voice inside my head that kept telling me that I was making a mistake by being with Tommy, that I had no place in his life and that I was ruining his marriage, regardless of how unhappy I knew Mrs Shelby to be even before I had come into the picture.  
  
Part of me wanted to do what I always did, run away as fast and far as I could, but another part, currently the stronger of the two, urged me to stay and try to make this thing between me and Tommy work. I was falling for him, hard and fast, much faster than was probably wise, but my feelings didn't care much about reason or propriety. Aside from that, despite the obvious distance he was putting between us for whatever reasons, I had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't let me go that easily. Then again, perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Maybe now that he had gotten to sleep with me, his interest had waned, maybe the thrill of excitement had worn off, or maybe I was just thinking too much. In any case, I kept my head high as I excited the car and walked up the steps of the commons, woefully underdressed compared to its inhabitants. I had to ask my way to Tommy's office, since I had no idea where it was, but to my luck, the desk in the anteroom was empty so I didn't have to explain who I was to his secretary because I wouldn't have known what to say anyway. How to explain to a stranger who I was to Thomas Shelby MP when I didn't even know the answer to that question?  
  
Steeling myself, I was about to knock on the door, when it suddenly opened and I came face to face with an unfamiliar man who looked just as surprised about my presence as I surely did about his. His dark hair was slicked back on his head, eyes that appeared brown at first glance but were actually green, ran over me in a manner I could only describe as predatory, the thin moustache above his lips twitching as he curled them into a smile.  
  
“And who might you be little dove?” The term of endearment wasn't so much meant as such as it was just plain condescending and I instinctively took a step back, my senses warning me very clearly that whoever he was, he was dangerous. He might be dressed to the nines in an impeccable suit that spoke of wealth but underneath that polished veneer laid something much less civilised than his appearance led to believe.  
  
“I..,” I didn't get to say more as Tommy stepped around the stranger, his jaw tight when his eyes fell on me, clearly not pleased to see me here.  
  
“What are you doing here?” He cast a glance at the other man and without having to be told I knew that Tommy hadn't wanted him to know about me, much less meet me. But it was a bit too late for that and if he had just told me why I had to stay at his house, we wouldn't be in this situation now would we?  
  
“I brought your lunch Mr Shelby. Your sister instructed me to make sure you eat,” I lied effortlessly, adopting a respectful tone that would be expected of an employee as I held up the small basket I had prepared earlier, thankful that I hadn't come empty handed. It was the perfect excuse, more believable due to the fact that I was dressed in my usual clothes which made me look more like a lowly servant and not like a woman someone as high ranking as Thomas Shelby would be interested in. Or so I hoped.  
  
“I see. You can leave that with me and tell my sister that I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself.” Tommy sounded sufficiently annoyed, playing along with my quickly thought up explanation and I handed the basket over to him, trying to ignore the other man who was glancing between me and my supposed employer, a contemplative look on his face. I couldn't be sure he bought this little farce, there was a tension in the air that he just had to take note of, but it could just as well be attributed to Tommy's annoyance with his sister, I doubted anyone outside his family was aware of my existence.  
  
“Of course Mr Shelby, I apologize for the disturbance. I'll be on my way,” I inclined my head, prepared to make a quick getaway but Tommy held up his hand before I could leave, gesturing for me to enter.   
  
“If you're already here, there are a few papers you can take back to the manor for me.” Inwardly I cursed but didn't let my apprehension show as I stepped past him and the stranger into the office, my heart beating somewhere in my throat. I was in for a good scolding no doubt and I had hoped to make my escape to prolong the inevitable to later in the day when Tommy would come back home, but no such luck it would appear.  
  
“I'll be seeing you tomorrow Oswald,” I heard Tommy say to his visitor, and I could feel the man's eyes on my back though I refused to turn around, only doing so after I heard the door close.  
  
“I'm sorry for coming by unannounced,” I quickly apologized before he could get a word out but he ignored me, walking past me to sit down at his desk and light himself a cigarette. He was angry, his jaw clenching and eyes squinting at some papers on his desk as he continued to ignore me for several long moments. My heart fell when he finally looked at me, the coldness in his eyes taking me aback as he regarded me silently. I was shifting on my feet, hands clasped in front of me while I waited for him to say something, anything, but he took his time, letting me stew in the tense atmosphere before eventually addressing me.  
  
“I told you to stay in the house, didn't I?” He didn't give me time to respond, carrying on in a tone that was as cold as his eyes, “And still you are here, running into the very person I was trying to keep you away from. Do you have any idea what your blatant disregard to my orders could've caused? That man is dangerous Eva, I can't have him sniff around you and have him try to use you against me. Why can no one listen to a fucking thing I'm saying and just do what the fuck they're told for once eh?” That last part didn't seem to be directed at me personally, it seemed to be more of a question to himself and he ran a hand over his mouth, glaring down at his desk as if it was at fault for his stress.  
  
“As I said, I'm sorry. But I can't just sit around the house all day doing nothing but waiting for you. It drives me up the walls, Tommy. I need something to do to keep my mind occupied, you better than anyone should know how dangerous the quiet is. Makes all the thoughts too loud to ignore. I'm not good at playing housewife or whatever it fucking is I'm supposed to be doing. It makes me doubt and think too much to the point I want to run away from it all.” My voice rose the more I talked, the words spilling out of me without me being able to stop them and he stiffened, nostrils flaring as the ice in his eyes turned to fire, his hand slamming down on the desk and making me flinch.   
  
“God damn it Eva, I have enough on my plate to worry about as is. If you want to fucking run away again, then do it. I'm not playing babysitter to a mentally unstable woman when I have much bigger things to deal with.” I froze, the condescension in his voice like a slap to the face and my eyes filled with tears, angry ones that rolled down my cheeks and dropped unto my coat. How dare he talk to me like that, demean me like this? Mentally unstable? He was one to talk.  
  
“Fuck you Thomas. I won't be lectured about my mental state by someone who can barely keep it together himself. Don't think I don't know about the drugs you take or how much you drink to try and drown your sorrows. If you would've taken the time to tell me why I wasn't allowed to leave the house instead of ordering me about like one of your little soldiers, I might've listened. But no, the great Thomas fucking Shelby doesn't need to explain himself to anyone, right? Well, I got news for you Mr Shelby, if you continue this way, you'll be all alone in the end because you will have alienated the people who truly care about you by disrespecting them under the pretence of wanting to protect them,” I stepped closer to his office, planting my hands on his desk and lowering my head to be eye level with him, my voice as cold as his had been.

“Shutting everyone out doesn't make you stronger, it just makes you more vulnerable, because it leaves you with no one to turn to. Caring is not a weakness, but your refusal to share yourself is. You wanted me to give you everything I am but you're not willing to do the same in return, despite your promise. I hope it's worth it Tommy. The top of the world is a cold and lonely place if you don't have someone to share it with.” I turned on my heel and left, done with this conversation now that I had said my peace. He could do with it whatever he wanted but until he came to his senses, I wasn't going to wait around for him as I had done before. Either he would put in the time and effort to make this relationship work, or he wouldn't, either way I would know where I stood. Currently, I was angry, at him for speaking to me in such a way and at myself for being stupid enough to get so involved in this thing between us. Of course it had been too good to be true, things often were, I should know this by now.  
  
Stomping my way past the now occupied desk in the anteroom, I didn't pay attention to my surroundings, seething over the outcome of my visit, which was why I didn't notice him until it was too late. A hand seized me by the arm, forcing me to a stop and I whipped around, the angry remark on the tip of my tongue dying as I realized who it was that had so rudely grabbed me.  
  
“Hello again little dove. I don't see any papers on you,” Mosley smirked at me, not relenting his grip on my arm and I was too upset to continue playing the submissive role I had adopted earlier, which would've probably been wiser.  
  
“Kindly let go of my arm Mr Mosley,” I hissed at the man but instead of doing that, he tightened his hold, pulling me into an empty hallway where he pressed me up against the wall and came much too close for comfort, close enough I could feel bis breath on my face, warm and with a lingering hint of the cigar he must've smoked some time ago.   
  
“I will let you go if you tell me who you are. You're not just a maid in Shelbys employ so don't even try to lie to me. I hate liars.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed a hold of my chin, squeezing to the point of pain and I glared back at him, not about to be intimidated that easily. Tommy had told me Mosley was dangerous, but I had already known that the second our eyes had met for the first time. He was a bully, used to get what he wanted by any means necessary, not unlike the man who's office I had just left.  
  
“And I hate men who think they can corner defenceless women in dark hallways,” I spat back, ignoring his demand for me to tell him who I was and he seemed delighted at my refusal, which made my stomach churn uncomfortably. He clearly enjoyed my defiance, likely because he enjoyed breaking people, women especially if I had to guess. Pity for him then that I was already broken.  
  
“I like your fire little dove. I'm guessing Shelby does too?” Mosley grinned knowingly, baring his straight white teeth and I rolled my eyes, not saying anything, biting back a yelp when he dug his fingers more firmly into my chin. I was going to sport bruises later, of that I was certain.  
  
“I can hurt you in ways you've never hurt before girl. Better tell me what I want to know before I have to resort to more,” his fingernails nearly broke my skin as his grin turned downright nasty, “unpleasant methods of extracting information from you.”  
  
“And wouldn't you just enjoy that huh? Tell me Oswald, when did you discover you got off on inflicting pain on others? Was it before or after you realized you prefer the company of men instead of women?” That had been decidedly the wrong thing to say but I tended to lash out when I felt threatened, immediately regretting my decision to goad him when he put his fist to my stomach. I heaved, unable to double over like my body demanded due to his hold on my chin that had wandered to my throat, keeping me upright and against the wall, not cutting off my air but forcing me to stay where I was.  
  
“You better watch your mouth or I will show you how very much I enjoy the company of women. Though I doubt it would be very enjoyable for you.” The hand around my throat tightened in warning, constricting my intake of air and I forced myself to remain still, to not struggle and give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak but it was difficult. My mind was screaming at me to fight him off, to run away as fast as I could, but running from a predator was never wise, they lived for the hunt and I didn't want to become this man's prey. His words turned my blood to ice and there was no doubt in my mind that he would make good on his promise if I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Not that I was able to say much of anything with him cutting off my airways.  
  
"I will find out who you are little dove. Until next time," Mosley gave me a smarmy smile, his hand firmly squeezing my throat before he let go and simply walked off, leaving me gasping for breath I could finally take again, my eyes overflowing with tears I had kept at bay during our interaction. As much as I had tried to not let it show, I was terrified of this man and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn't want to ever run across him again.

* * *

Tommy knew he had fucked up, had known it even before Eva had come by today, though what he had said to her had definitely made matters worse. He had purposefully kept his distance the last few days, staying out until late into the night so he wouldn't have to interact with the woman he had allowed into his life. The night Aberama had turned up at Arrow house, Tommy had dreamt of his wife, of the night she had died in his arms but somewhere in between, the bleeding body in his arms had morphed from Grace to Eva, his dead wife standing over them both with accusation in her eyes. He had woken drenched in sweat, his heart beating fast enough he had been afraid it might jump right out of his chest. That dream had terrified him enough he had been unable to sleep since then for fear of dreaming again. Instead he had distanced himself from Eva, rationalizing his behaviour by telling himself that it was for the best, that he shouldn't drag the poor young woman down with him after she had already been through too much trauma herself. It would be better, he told himself, better to break things off now than to drag it out until she would either grow to resent him for never being fully present as it had been with Lizzy or get herself killed because of him like his beloved Grace. In the end, she would leave one way or another, they always did and he was better of alone in any case.

But as much as he tried telling himself it was for the best, he couldn't bring himself to have her leave his house, to set her up somewhere else where he wouldn't run risk of seeing her, part of him needing her to stay close, even if he kept away. Selfish was what he was by doing this, torturing the both of them, but the thought of her being gone was worse than having her in his life at a distance. The morphine he couldn't seem to stop taking wasn't making any of this easier, made him see his dead wife and messed with his head enough he wasn't too sure anymore what was real and what wasn't. Sometimes Grace would just stand there, staring at him as if she was waiting for something, sometimes she would whisper things he logically knew he shouldn't listen to for it was only his own fucked head that made all of this up. Earlier in the day, he had held his gun to his head, seconds away from blowing his own brains out and be done with it all, only to reconsider at the last moment. It hadn't been the first time either and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. He was a wreck, riddled with guilt and demons that never stopped haunting him, constantly attacking his mind with memories of the war, of those he had lost and those he could lose, showing him the bloodied corpses of his loved ones, his son, his family, Eva...

Cursing under his breath, Tommy made himself a drink and lit another cigarette, staring off into space as he replayed in his mind what Eva had said to him, how she had sounded cold enough to freeze over the entire room. He hadn't known she could be that cold, she had only ever been warm toward him and the iciness of her voice had shocked him enough he hadn't been able to do much else than stare at her retreating back once she had been done. The house would be empty when he would return tonight, he knew already, had seen it in her eyes before she had turned on her heel and stormed out, not even bothering to close his door behind her. Maybe he should've gone after her but he couldn't bring himself to do so, exhausted from lack of sleep and steadily increasing stress from having to deal with the Billy Boys, Mosley and the potential betrayal from one of his own. He still wasn't convinced Michael wasn't after his throne, that he would simply stop just because his wife had turned out to be a liar, Tommy knew how love could blind a person and he hoped that his cousin would be smart enough to let Gina go and not take her back. Pol, as well as Eva, seemed to be convinced that the blonde American had been the driving force behind Michael's defiance, but Tommy wasn't too sure about that. The younger man was ambitious, always had been and his lying wife wouldn't have been able to get into his head if the seed hadn't already been growing to begin with.

His phone rang, which could only mean someone from his family was calling, otherwise his secretary would've come in to tell him he had a call, the only ones who got put through immediately where his siblings or Pol. Clearing his throat, he picked up the receiver, the angry voice of his aunt reaching his ears before he could so much as utter a greeting.

“What have you done now Tom?” Polly sounded furious but also exasperated and he frowned, unsure of what exactly she was speaking of. He had done many things, she would have to be more specific than that.

“I don't know, you tell me,” he replied tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, contemplating if it would make matters worse if he simply hung up. Best not to risk it, Pol was sufficiently pissed at him as it was.

“I just came home and found a bruised up young woman on my doorstep, eyes red from crying, who refused to tell me what happened to her. For your own well-being I do hope you're not the one to have bruised her face and neck or I swear Thomas, I will bring your world crashing down on you.” Tommy immediately straightened, his hand clenching around the receiver as his mind ran away with him, his aunts threat barely registering. Someone had put their hands on Eva, hurting her and his worry for her was quickly overshadowed by anger.

“I'll be right over.” Before his aunt could tell him not to as she no doubt was about to, he hung up and grabbed his coat, taking his gun out of the desk drawer to put it back in its holster. All thoughts of letting Eva go flew right out the window the moment he had heard she had been injured by someone. No one hurt what was his.


	7. Chapter 7

Polly looked at the girl she had come to care for more than she had thought possible in such a short amount of time. With her legs tucked underneath her, Eva sat on the sofa in the living room, eyes empty and staring off into nothing. Bruises marked her chin and neck, standing out darkly against her pale skin and Polly eyed them worriedly. When she had returned from her shopping, she had found the girl sitting on her doorstep, crying her eyes out and too upset to tell her what had happened. Of course she had immediately called Tommy after ushering the girl inside, furious at her nephew. She couldn't know for sure of course, but she doubted it had been him who had put Eva in such a state. Something else must've happened, but he should've been there to protect the woman he had been so intent on having by his side he was going as far as to divorce Lizzy for.

Pretty as she was, the young brunette was also very troubled, Polly didn't need to know any details to be aware of this, the eyes told her as much. They reminded her of her nephews, that deep sadness in them that told of the hardship the young woman must've gone through. She was just as much broken as Tommy was, but unlike him, she was fighting the despair that wanted to drown her and didn't give herself over to it, not fully. Currently however, there didn't seem to be any kind of fight in the poor thing and Polly questioned if it might be best to get the girl out and away from her nephew before it was too late and she shattered completely.  
  
Tommy could be cruel and cold, she knew that better than anyone, but she had also seen the way his eyes changed when he looked at Eva. It reminded her of how he had looked at his late wife, the Irish traitor that Polly had never truly forgiven for what she had done, though she had grieved upon her death, more in mourning for her nephew than for the woman herself. Grace's death had been unfortunate, causing a ripple effect with consequences they all still felt to this day. Not everything of what had happened after could be attributed to Tommy losing his wife of course, but Polly was convinced that the recklessness that loss had caused was partly to blame for quite a lot of it. He hadn't been the same since that night, having his wife bleed out in his arms had damaged him even more so than the war had done and he did little other than work and scheme, keeping himself busy as to not have to deal with his emotions, something he had always done, but which had gotten infinitely worse after France and then even more so after Grace died.  
  
Polly had hoped that Eva might be able to help hold his mind together, it wasn't a secret that Tommy was drifting further and further away from the living and she often feared he might put a gun to his own head and pull the trigger. As much animosity as she had come to harbour against him the last few years, she still didn't want that to be the outcome of it all. What she wanted was for him to come back to them, to his family, truly return in more than just the physical sense. He was a shell of a man, plainly put, and if he continued down the path he was on, he would get them all killed at some point or another.

Maybe putting all her hopes into a someone they all barely knew and who was desperately fighting her own demons wasn't a wise choice but Eva wasn't just an ordinary young woman that had gone through hard times. She was perceptive, seeing things in a way that made her appear almost clairvoyant and she seemed to be able to reach Tommy on a level none of them had been able to.  
  
As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard her front door burst open and the man himself stormed into the room, eyes wide and frantic as they roamed through the living room, hardening when they fell on the young woman sitting still as a statue on the sofa, taking in her bruises with a quick glance. In a few long strides, he was at her side, hand lifting to reach for her before he seemed to think better of it, lowering it again.  
  
“What happened?” Although his voice sounded as collected as ever, Polly could tell how unsettled he was that Eva wouldn't so much as acknowledge his presence, still staring off into nothing and she stood from the armchair she had sat on to perch herself on the armrest of the sofa, crossing her arms.  
  
“She has been like this ever since I let her inside.” Polly gestured with her head at the unresponsive woman and Tommy ran a hand over his mouth, turning away. He knew more than he let on, of that she was sure and she observed him intently, startling a bit when Eva suddenly spoke.  
  
“He's going to come after me.” Her voice was quiet but strong, in contrast to her visible state and both Polly and Tommy turned to her, the latter first to speak as he crouched down in front of the young brunette.  
  
“Who? Who did this to you Eva?” he urged, jaw tightening in anger as his eyes fell to the bruised skin on her chin and neck again. The far away look in her eyes focused on Tommy's face, her expression colder than anything Polly had ever seen on her and nothing like the usual warmth.   
  
“Why do you care? I thought you had more important things to do than babysit a mentally unstable woman. Isn't that what you told me?” Polly gasped, shooting her nephew a disapproving frown but his entire focus was on Eva, his jaw clenched in response to her bitterly spoken words.  
  
“I'm under a lot of stress Eva, I didn't mean it,” Tommy pressed out, as close to an apology as he was likely ever going to get, but Eva just scoffed, brushing off his attempt at justifying his actions with a shake of her head.  
  
“You might not have meant the words, but you did mean for them to hurt. The stress you are under is of your own making Thomas and if you keep refusing to share your burdens, they will bury you so far beneath them, no one will be able to ever reach you again. You keep pushing everyone away, but demand they give everything to you. If you cannot share, I won't either. I'm not a commodity for you to use whenever you fell like it and I won't have you treat me as such. Make up your damn mind about what it is you want from me and when you have figured it out, you can try again.” Eva stood, face no longer pale but flushed in anger and pushing past Tommy, she stormed out of the room, her footsteps retreating down the hall and up the stairs.  
  
“I knew there was a reason I liked the girl,” Polly mused aloud and her nephew scowled at her, unamused. She was proud that Eva wouldn't let herself become a doormat to Thomas' moods, it was good to see her stand up to him instead of cowering. What he was going to make of it however remained to be seen.  
  
“Don't give me that look Thomas. You know she's right. It was your idea to involve her in the first place if I remember correctly.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers as he frowned at it.  
  
“Yes, thank you Pol, I'm well aware. But there's a difference between having her at a family meeting and this.” He gestured vaguely with his hand, placing the cigarette between his lips and then searching for his lighter. Polly raised her brows, annoyed at his usual secrecy.  
  
“And what exactly is this?” She asked with a flourish of her hand, mimicking him, but of course he didn't answer, just stared back at her with a blank face and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she prayed for patience and for someone to put some sense in the boy.  
  
“She isn't like Grace or Lizzy, she won't just turn a blind eye to all your secrecy and pretend everything is fine with a smile on her lips. You either need to let her in or cut her lose and you best decide soon or she might not be around to find out.” He didn't want to hear that, she could tell by the tightness of his jaw and the stiffness of his shoulders, but he would just have to deal with it. The girl was prone to running and Polly knew that it would only be a matter of time until she did so again.  
  
“You make it sound as if neither of my other wives was giving me hell behind closed doors,” he deflected, eyes flickering to the doorway to which Eva had disappeared through.

It was plain for anyone with eyes in their head to see that he cared for the young woman but he was acting like a right idiot when it came to keeping her. Polly doubted he was aware how he had basically called Eva his wife just now and if it wasn't all such a mess, she would've found it sweet. As it was however, she doubted that he would be able to put a ring on the girl's finger in the foreseeable future if ever. Not if he kept shutting her out and pushing her away. Then again, he did so with everyone and she wasn't sure if he was even capable of doing it any other way.   
  
“I'm sure they did. Just as I'm sure you deserved every second of it. But if you don't get your head out of your own arse, there will be no closed doors, only hell. She might not have told you yet, might not even realize it herself, but the girl is clearly in love with you Tommy, foolish as that might be. You've got a chance to find happiness here with someone who truly sees you for what you are and still cares about you. Don't throw that away just because you're too stubborn to let her in.” Polly gave her nephew a pointed look before she followed Eva's example and left.

What she truly meant to say, that he was too scared of his feelings, she wisely kept to herself. If there was one thing he hated, it was for people to think he was afraid of anything, to reveal any kind of chink in this impenetrable armour he hid himself behind. But she knew him, better than he might know himself sometimes, and her guess was that he was scared out of his mind, worrying about scenarios of Eva getting hurt, or worse killed, simply for being associated with him. That he was the one doing the hurting at the moment was sadly ironic because it was hurting him as well.

  
  


* * *

  
I had retreated into the guest room I had shared with Tommy on my very first night in Polly's house, pacing the floor like a caged animal, angry at Tommy, saddened that things were falling apart so quickly and scared of what might happen next. My fingers kept wandering to the bruises on my neck, the phantom sensation of a hand wrapped tightly around it, choking me, still lingering, the evidence of my encounter with that despicable man marked into my skin.

Mosley. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared of him, he was a member of parliament, or at least I assumed so, and he clearly came from wealth. Rich and powerful, well connected if I had to guess, a man who could likely get away with almost anything if he so wanted to. A nobody like me, with no money and not so much as a permanent residence was no match for someone like him.

Even if I had told Tommy who it was that had attacked me, I doubted he would be able to do anything, not without risking everything he had build for himself and I wasn't selfish enough to demand such of him. People depended on his influence, his money, more than just his livelihood would be at stake if he were to strike back against Mosley. Although he would never admit to it, Tommy was a good man who cared for those under his protection, I had heard enough about the orphanages he supported with his money, the positive change he had brought to Birmingham. He gave hope to people who hadn't much to hope for and they loved him for it, even if they also feared him.   
  
I had never seen the side of him everyone seemed to be so afraid of, the brutal and bloody side I was sure he hadn't shown for a while, but people always remembered and the Peaky Blinders still ruled with an iron fist, even if the Shelbys themselves mostly kept to the legitimate side of their business ventures nowadays. I probably wouldn't know any of this if I hadn't overheard the maids at the manor talking to each other in hushed whispers, though I had also learned quite a lot on my very first day when I had walked the streets of Birmingham. It was baffling how much one could learn by simply listening to people gossip amongst themselves.   
  
A knock on the door stopped me in my pacing and I hesitated to answer it, fearing, and hoping, it might be Tommy, either coming to make amends or to pressure me into telling him what had happened after I had left his office. But then I heard Polly calling out my name and my shoulders slumped in disappointment. Part of me was hoping Tommy would come to his senses and truly try to let me be part of his life, to share his burdens, but another part of me was asking if it would be worth it. His life was dangerous, being around him was dangerous, being an MP didn't change that, if anything it just heightened the stakes.

Rubbing a hand across my face to make sure there weren't any tears, I straightened my shoulders and opened the door, not bothering to plaster on a smile, Polly was too smart to fall for such a thing. I liked that about her, she saw things for what they were, very similar to me. Perhaps that was why we got along so well.   
  
“You look like shit,” she greeted me without preamble as soon as the door was open and I grimaced, self-consciously touching my hair as if that was what she was talking about. Rolling her eyes, she pushed past me and into the room, hands placed on her hips as she looked around.   
  
“We can have this redecorated to your tastes. I never much liked how it looked anyway but couldn't be bothered to do something about it. What do you think about Robin's blue?” She glanced at me over her shoulder and I stared back at her in utter confusion, standing by the still open door with my mouth agape and no idea what she was going on about.   
  
“You're goin to catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that.” The comment made me snap said mouth shut and I frowned at her, about to ask what was going on when she turned back around, running her hand over the duvet covering the bed.   
  
“I had a daughter once. The parish took her from me when she was just a small child and I never saw her again. She was send to Australia and died there a few years back, something called spring fever took her from me before we got a chance to reunite,” Polly told me and I blinked at the back of her head in surprise, wondering why she was telling me this. It was a very personal thing to tell to what basically amounted to a stranger, but she wasn't done just yet, her whole posture straightening as she shifted to face me again, her eyes flashing with determination.

“I'm not trying to say that I see you as a daughter, we don't know each other enough for me to make such a proclamation. But you do remind me of her, same hair, same eyes,” she gestured at my features, a sad smile on her lips and I felt a lump form in my throat, emphatic to the pain she must still feel, even if I never had any children of my own, I could relate to losing a loved one and how much it hurt to know you could never see or speak to them again.

“I'd imagine she would've been just as headstrong as you, though hopefully not as reckless.” Her joke lifted the sombre mood a bit and we shared a smile before Polly turned serious once more, looking me up and down as if measuring me up for something.

“I wont have you run away again. You're going to stay with me from now on and this will be your room. As a member of the board of directors for Shelby Company Limited and its company treasurer, it is high time I got myself an assistant anyway. I'll pay you a decent hourly wage and you'll handle my appointments and the like. Of course we need to upgrade your wardrobe, I can't have you working for me wearing rags,” she went on to say and I glanced down at what I was wearing, momentarily distracted by her comment and not truly registering what she was actually saying. The dress wasn't exactly a rag, but it was decidedly old and one could tell by looking at it. And then my brain caught up to what Polly was suggesting, though it didn't sound much like a suggestion, more the mere stating of facts that this was how it was going to be done and there wasn't room for any argument.

“I haven't got the first idea how to be an assistant Polly! Surely you would much rather hire someone actually qualified for the position,” I argued reasonably, because in my opinion, there was always room to argue. As she had said, I was headstrong, though of course she simply brushed my objections off, giving me a pointed look.

“You know how to work the phone and how to use your feet, don't you? Not much more qualifications needed than that I'd say.” And that was that, I could tell by the finality to her tone and the stern expression on her face and this time, I didn't dare argue again, biting back a smile. She knew full well that I wouldn't ever agree to stay with her unless I could earn my keep and this was her way of keeping me here without making me feel like a burden to anyone. It warmed my chest that she cared that much about me, despite our short acquaintance.

“If you say so. But I do insist that you deduct the new clothes you're no doubt about to buy for me from my pay,” I conceded and although she rolled her eyes, I could tell she was pleased. This certainly cleared up the uncertainty of where I was going to stay from now on, since I refused to return to Arrow house until a certain someone could make up his mind about what it was he wanted. If that ever even happened. But at least I would have work and a roof over my head for the foreseeable future.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I know it has been a little while since I last updated and the next chapter might even be a longer while still. Due to some health issues, mainly the fact that I apparently have developed micro-cysts in both my wrists which have me in almost constant pain, writing is very uncomfortable at the moment. As you can maybe guess, it also doesn't help much in terms of motivation. Medication isn't doing much unfortunately and there is a good possibility that I need to have surgery at some point, yay me... 
> 
> But enough about that now, I hope you enjoy this chapter and feel free to tell me what you think about it! Also, thank you very much to everyone who left kudos or a comment, it really makes my day to see people enjoy the crap I write!

True to her word, Polly made me her official assistant, even gave me a desk in front of her office where I could answer the phone and such. Not that she herself was much in the office, but surprisingly the phone rang often enough. It made me wonder who, if anyone, had held this position before, but when I had asked her, she just shrugged and waved me off. I had the sneaking suspicion that the calls she received in the daily just hadn't been answered before because the people I spoke to seemed oddly relieved to finally have reached someone. Tommy hadn't shown his face since the last time I had seen him at Polly's and I was grateful for it because there was a distinct possibility that I might slap it a few times. It had only been a few days, but I was still miffed about the way he had treated me and the hurtful things he had said.   
  
I could imagine that he wasn't too happy with me either for standing up to him instead of bowing down to his whims, but I had meant what I had told him, I wouldn't be treated in such a way and he best believe it. Messed in the head I might be, but I was no doormat, my mother had raised me to be strong when it came to men, to never cower before them and never forget my self-worth. I had trouble with the last part, but only where it pertained to the worth of staying alive, though I had felt better for a while. The very man I was currently cross with I also had to thank for that and it made it all the more frustrating that he was such an arse at the moment. Polly had told me to give it some time and I was agreeable to do that, but I wouldn't wait around forever. I understood that it was difficult for him to let people in, I was much the same way, but at least I was trying, whereas he was not. He could speak sweet words all he wanted, but if he was unable to put his money where his mouth was, he could go to hell for all I cared.   
  
Gloomily staring at the phone that had been quiet for the last half hour, I contemplated on taking an early lunch, maybe take a little walk to clear my head a bit, thinking of Tommy had put me in a decidedly sour mood. Just as I got up to grab my coat, the door to the ante-room where my desk sat opened and I froze halfway out of my chair as my eyes fell on the very last person I wanted to see, my throat closing up in remembrance of his hand tightly wrapped around it. His eyes surveyed the space before landing on me, a slimy smile appearing on his lips and my hand itched to reach for the telephone on my desk and call for help.  
  
“Hello again little dove,” Mosley purred in greeting, closing the door behind him and it clicked shut with an air of finality to it that made my stomach turn. My fear was no doubt written all over my face and he looked very pleased by it, his gaze predatory as he walked closer, prompting me to fully stand up, heart beating somewhere in my throat.  
  
“Or do you prefer Evangeline Louise Billings?” Hearing my full name out of his mouth send a shudder of revulsion through my body and his eyes flashed in triumph as he caught my reaction, a soft chuckle coming from him that sounded decidedly foreboding to my ears. There was a metallic taste in my mouth and I realized that I had bitten down hard enough on the inside of my cheek to break the skin and make it bleed. My mind screamed at me to run, but he was blocking the only exit and I didn't want to risk getting grabbed if I tried to move past him. The desk was the only barrier between us and albeit a flimsy one it gave me at least the illusion of safety for the time being.   
  
“What's the matter Miss Billings? Cat got your tongue?” Mosley taunted me for my prolonged silence, coming to a stop on the other side of my desk and I forced myself to not take a step back like I wanted to. It wouldn't change anything and only give him more satisfaction I didn't want to grant him.  
  
“If you are here to see Mrs Gray, I'm afraid she isn't in at the moment. But you can make an appointment if you wish,” I managed to get out, my voice too high and nervous to be considered normal and his smile widened, showing off his straight teeth.  
  
“I'm here to see you little dove. Do I need an appointment for that as well?” He placed his hands on the desk to lean toward me, probably hoping for me to flinch, but I stood my ground, hard as it was. One of the drawers held a gun, one that Polly had given me the very first day of working for her, but I doubted it would be a good idea to point a weapon at him if I didn't have the intention of actually firing it. I wanted to, I truly did, but I also didn't want to get hanged, so instead I scraped together all the courage I had left and straightened my shoulders.  
  
“I'm not important enough to warrant anyone having to make an appointment with me Mr Mosley. We both know that. Furthermore,” he interrupted me before I could go on to tell him I also wasn't important enough for him to waste his time harassing me, though I doubted it would deter him.  
  
“Oswald please. I believe we are past formalities by this point.” He gave me a sickly sweet smile, eyes wandering to the fading bruises he had given me during our last run in and I swallowed nervously, not liking how his gaze heated at the sight of my marked skin. Sick bastard.  
  
“You're no doubt a busy man, why waste your time on me Mr Mosley?” I put a special emphasis to his name and his smile turned into a smirk, my defiance clearly amusing him, though I was convinced that even if I'd act meek he still wouldn't leave me alone. Straightening again, Mosley slowly looked me over, eyes lingering on my chest and hips, licking his lips to show me clearly what exactly it was that he wanted from me and I nearly expelled my breakfast at the mere thought of him and me together like that.  
  
“Tell me Eva, do you enjoy pain?” He met my eyes again and I frowned, confused as to why he was asking me this and why he looked so smug about it, but he wasn't done yet, a decidedly deranged glimmer in his eyes, as he went on.   
  
“I suppose you must since you set yourself on fire.” I could feel the colour drain from my face and I had to hold on to the desk, suddenly woozy. He knew. I didn't know how since the fire had been ruled an accident, but somehow he had figured it out. This wasn't good, not good at all. The shock over his revelation made my ears ring and I almost missed what he was saying as he continued talking, visibly delighted by my distress.  
  
“I spoke to one of the investigators and he told me that they had their suspicions you were the one to start the fire. They just couldn't prove it so they were forced to put it down as an accident. But your reaction tells me they were right to be suspicious. Was it because your mother died? Little Eva so alone in the world she could no longer take it, how very heartbreaking.” Mosley shook his head with an expression of sadness on his face, but his eyes told quite a different story, gleaming hungrily as they traced the lone tear rolling down my cheek. I hadn't meant to cry, certainly not in front of this monster, but I couldn't have been prepared for the direction this conversation had taken so suddenly and hearing those words out of his mouth had pulled the rug from under me.  
  
“And then along comes Thomas Shelby, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and making you feel worthy and beautiful only for him to discard you like yesterday's news once he had his fill. Why else would he have reconciled with his wife and have her move back home?” My heart seemed to stop in my chest and then crack. Was this true? Had Tommy already decided to abandon what we could've had without even having the decency to tell me? Instead of breaking apart further, I felt myself harden, icy fury filling up the cracks that had grown in my chest and I levelled the man across from me with a cold glare, my voice like winter.  
  
“Then why do you keep pestering me? Any value I might have had before in whatever game it is your playing with him has surely run its course.” If he was surprised or even disappointed at my lack of crumbling into a sobbing mess, he didn't show it, instead he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small white business card, holding it out to me.  
  
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned Miss Billings.” Even though he didn't say it outright, I understood what he was alluding to. He wanted intel on his rival or whatever Tommy was to him and he thought I could help him with that out of anger towards the man that had broken my heart. But I wasn't petty like that and I sure as hell wasn't going to help a disgusting pig like Mosley, though I didn't say that to his face and wordlessly took the offered card instead. Let him believe I was interested and hopefully he would leave so I could sort myself out in peace.  
  
He certainly thought himself to have won, smirking triumphantly and with a tip to his imaginary hat, he finally left, a pep to his step as he walked out the door and disappeared. With a disgusted grimace, I dropped the card unto my desk and then picked up the phone, intent to get to the bottom of this and find out the truth about what he had told me. I knew the number from my aunt and it rang a few times before someone picked up the call, a female voice on the other end I immediately recognized and I quickly slammed the receiver down again, covering my mouth with my hand as I blinked back tears. So it was true then.

After what had happened at Polly's, I doubted that Mrs Shelby would've returned to Arrow house unless to pick up her things and I also doubted she would've answered the phone if that was the case. Which could only mean that Tommy had asked her to come back, probably making promises as he had done with me and I angrily wiped away my tears. He didn't deserve them, that lying, manipulative bastard. I had been foolish to believe we had made a true connection, that he felt the same way about me that I felt about him and in that moment, I deeply regretted giving up my virtue to him, something I would never get back and another thing he certainly didn't deserve.   
  
It came to me then that Polly must've known about this, she always new everything if it had to do with her family and a fresh surge of anger went through me, the sting of betrayal burning through my stomach. I couldn't trust anyone it appeared, especially not the members of the Shelby clan, this just went to show it. Polly probably thought she was doing me a favour by keeping this from me, protecting the poor, messed up girl she had taken under her wing, lest I lose my shit and get reckless again. But I didn't need to be protected from the truth, I didn't want to be protected from it. I'd rather know and deal with the pain than to be deliberately kept in the dark only for it to hurt that much more when the truth finally came out as it always did.

Fed up with all of it, I grabbed my coat and shrugged it on, ignoring the ringing of the telephone. I needed to get out of here and decide what I would do next, determinedly striding towards the door only to turn back around and pick up Mosley card.

  
  


* * *

  
“You have to tell her Tommy. If she finds out from someone else, she won't be happy,” Polly pointed out sourly and he pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering when exactly the women in his life had decided to make it a habit to turn up at his office unannounced.

He already had to deal with Lizzie's disdainful comments that morning, she wasn't too happy that he had asked her to come back to the house the day before and she had only conceded after he had agreed to pay her a rather hefty sum of money for the charade he wanted her to play. If Mosley thought he was back with his wife, it would hopefully deter him from accosting Eva any further, or so he hoped at least. It hadn't been hard to figure out that it was the slimy politician who had assaulted the woman Tommy much rather had back home with him but as much as he wanted to, he couldn't outright kill the bastard, so he had to get creative. Polly was right though, if Eva found out that Lizzie was back at Arrow house, she would draw all the wrong conclusions.  
  
“I will. But not yet. First I have to make sure Mosley believes I'm still with Lizzie and have no interest in Eva. It's for her own protection,” he responded tiredly, longing for a vial of morphine to dull down the aches in his body. He hadn't touched a drop of the drug since the day Eva had put him in his place, intent on showing her that he wanted to be with her, that he was trying to change his ways and holding off on the drugs was a good starting point. The visions of his dead wife had all but disappeared but he was feeling like shit, though it had been worse the first two days. His skin was pale and sweaty, his hands shaking and stomach churning. Tommy had tried to compensate with drinking, but it wasn't much use.  
  
“That's always your excuse, but I can tell you that it won't work this time round. If you're not going to tell her, I will as soon as I see her. I won't lie to the girl, she deserves better than that,” Polly stated firmly as she stood up and he sighed, putting out his obligatory cigarette before standing as well to escort her out.  
  
“She does, I agree with you on that. But I would prefer for it to come from me and not you.” He gave his aunt a pointed look, wordlessly telling her to not speak of this with Eva before he got the change to do so himself and Polly sniffed, a defiant tilt to her chin as she looked him over, no doubt taking note of the state he was in and how he could barely stay upright. Her hard glare softened a fraction and she let out a sigh, shaking her head in exasperation.  
  
“Fine, I won't tell her. But you better do it soon Thomas. Come to dinner tonight, I'll make sure she will be there,” Polly conceded and he gave her a sharp nod in return. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face Eva but as his aunt had rightfully pointed out, he also couldn't risk for her to hear of it from someone else or she might make a run for it again. That wasn't what he wanted, the thought alone causing his chest to feel tight. Perhaps he should call her, tell her over the phone and explain more tonight, just to be on the safe side.  
  
Saying his goodbyes to Pol, promising he would be there for dinner, he walked back to his desk and sat back down, running a shaky hand through his hair and then he reached for his phone, hand hovering over the receiver in indecision before picking it up and dialling the number to Polly's office. It rung several times, but no one picked up and with a frown he hung up again. She was probably at lunch he surmised after a quick look at his pocket watch and he decided to try again later, a sudden sense of urgency he couldn't explain gripping him, like a giant hand squeezing his heart.

Trying to shake the feeling off, he spend the next half hour with paperwork, but his focus was shot to shit, his worries about Eva and the symptoms of withdrawal from the morphine distracting him every time he tried to get at least some work done. Finally giving up on his futile efforts, he tried calling Pol's office again, but there was still no response. It might very well be she was running an errand but he simply couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that had taken hold of him and thus decided to go there in person. He got hold up by one of his colleagues however, spending fifteen minutes to get the man out of his office again so he could leave, making up an excuse of not feeling too well which was easily believable with how wrecked he looked. Still, it took him another fifteen minutes to make it out onto the streets, getting stopped several times in the hallways of the commons and to make matters worse, he ran into Mosley the moment he stepped outside.  
  
“Ah, Thomas. Going home early?” He didn't have time for this, but Tommy knew he couldn't just brush the other man off so he gave him a tight smile, forcing himself to not bounce on the back of his heels like some nervous boy.  
  
“M'afraid I'm coming down with something. Best to cure it at home before it gets worse, eh?” Mosley grinned in a manner that made Tommy's feeling of unease grow, as if the fascist knew something that he didn't.  
  
“We wouldn't want that of course. Can't have you getting sick now that we've made plans to change Britain for the better.” Tommy just nodded, gritting his teeth as he went to move past the other man, his steps faltering when Mosley called after him, smugness ringing in his voice.  
  
“Give your best to the wife for me. I'm sure she is delighted to be back home.” Dread settled in his stomach, but he didn't turn around, simply held up his hand to give a small wave as if agreeing to do as Mosley had asked, his mind running wild with worry that the bastard had gotten to Eva before he had a chance to explain, poisoning her mind with lies. If so, then it made sense why no one had picked up the phone at Polly's office, knowing Eva she had likely run for the hills, convinced that he had discarded her to get back with Lizzie which couldn't be further from the truth. This was exactly what his aunt had warned him about and he felt like an idiot for not listening to her. He could only hope that it wasn't too late to make amends.


End file.
